


New Detroit Chronicles

by TheKiwiBird



Series: New Detroit AU (Portal / Half Life AU) [3]
Category: Half-Life, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explosions and cool guys not looking at them, Half-Life AU, Half-Life II Ep 2 spoilers, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Instances of Multiple Personality States, Instances of Schizophrenia, New Detroit AU, Other, Portal 2 Spoilers, Portal AU, Torture scenes involving domination and electrocution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKiwiBird/pseuds/TheKiwiBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the start of a new year in Detroit, and both the Vagabond and her housemate Nathan Spurling have been working on living together in an amicable fashion. When a pair of unexpected visitors appear, their arrival turns out to have been perfectly timed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spectrum

Sitting upon her snowy perch underneath the stars, the settled-in ex-Vagabond of the greater Detroit metro area mused upon the last few months, living with the man who was happily gazing up at the sky from his hand-built security dome.

 

“Can you see the outlines of Capricorn from here?” He shouted up to her. “The snow’s throwing me off, but it’s pretty amazing! And Aquarius is slowly coming in; aren’t you excited?”

 

She let him get excited; it was one of the few times in the last month that he had been roaming about in her peripheral, and despite her apprehensions about having any attachment to him, he was friendly and amusing. Well, this personality was.

 

The man, whose name was Nathan, had a lot of voices in his head that would occasionally pilot him about like a ship; this particular one enjoyed stargazing, and had even outlined a rough calendar for them based on their positions. Today was supposedly a day in early January, in fact. Not knowing the year was throwing him off a bit.

 

This particular personality was named ‘Girard’, and his gift for being able to explain things she couldn’t understand was amazing; it seemed like it was his job or something. He was the one who told her about the other little voices in Nathan’s head; their names, their personas, everything. However, each one had to be experienced, and in the first few months since Nathan had arrived, Vagabond was certain she had met them all.

 

One of the other voices that lived in that head of Nathan’s was a shy little individual who went by the nickname of ‘Curi’. Both Girard and Nathan had spoken about the apparently feminine persona as being rather fluent in sign language, but until the day she actually came face to face with the jumpy persona, Vagabond didn’t realize how fluent she was.

 

It was often that whenever Curi was about, the two would spend the duration of the persona’s stay setting up a system of signs for easier communication. It was incredibly useful, and oftentimes very calming to be around.

 

Curi’s nature was shy and frail, like an animate porcelain doll. Preferring to simply sip tea and talk about her best friend ‘Spacey’ (that Vagabond came to find out was Curi’s somewhat appropriate nickname for Girard), Curi’s bubbly and polite mannerisms seemed almost out of place as they were acted out by Nathan’s tall and gangly frame and vocals. Curi, however, was much more appreciated than the…other female.

 

It was a grim autumn morning, the rain pouring down heavily, when vagabond first met the persona known only as ‘Morality’.

 

Sitting with Nathan’s arms crossed, a stern look painted on his face, Vagabond had nearly taken this persona to be a rather cranky Nathan, but it was only when Mortality began to speak that Vagabond knew it wasn’t him.

 

Speaking barely above a whisper, the persona began to question her motives and actions in such an unnerving fashion that she simply couldn’t stand to reply.

 

“Why do you push Nathan away? ‘If you know something about him that we do not, why don’t you tell him? Do you know how heavily it weighs on his mind, the fact that a large chunk of his memory is missing and that you may know something he doesn’t? Not that he isn’t perfect, either. What I know of what he’s done makes him a morally deprived and dangerously unlucky person, at best. But that doesn’t forgive you from not coming clean. Even if you have a pile of damning evidence against him, you should come clean. It will only make the tension you exude towards him dissipate…or is it something so horrifying that you fear it would kill him to know?”

 

She had had enough of the impromptu breakfast trial. She had simply picked up her bowl of oatmeal and walked out.

 

“So it’s what I thought. I won’t tell him we had this talk…”

 

Vagabond was happy that one hadn’t bothered her more than that one time.

 

Two of the personalities seemed to be conjoined at the hip, interestingly enough. "Craig" and "Intel" both loved to hog up the library; the former spent time keeping the library in order, with the occasional bout of stacking up books (mostly baking books and novels) in the center of the library, while the latter sat for their duration, simply sitting and reading everything that had been set out for them.

 

She hadn’t noticed at first that they were different personalities altogether until she queried Girard about them; apparently their main duty, when not living in the library, was to assist Nathan in repairing the massive damage in Nathan’s head that had occurred during his last trip through Aperture Laboratories’ interior.

 

She shuddered to think what had happened, but it was clear that it was a doozy. She hadn’t asked, but she had slowly pieced a few facts together.

 

She began distracting herself with the more adventurous personas.

 

One of the more frequent personas was named “Rick”; it seemed to be his life’s passion to engage with the noisy little action-packed digital test initiatives, explore unknown territory, and to make her feel uncomfortable to be around him using every inappropriate innuendo one could make. He’d been fairly useful in clearing out some of the nearby hazard areas, using little more than hand-built baited traps, trusty ingenuity, and a heavy chain link and wrench when things got too close for comfort.

 

She appreciated ‘Rick’s help with the additional stockpile of headhopper corpses for various uses, but she really didn’t like him, so much.

 

She had tried out one of his testing initiatives, “Pitfall”, while he was away. It was pretty tough, but she finally beat it a week ago. He seemed rather impressed with her.

 

She still didn’t like him hitting on her. She could do without.

 

The most wily of all the alternate personas...he was quite the interesting one.

 

He was known only by the nickname ‘Red Eye’, evoking a natural thought of a creature filled with rage. Spending a good portion of his time in the boiler room, staring at the fire and tending to it, he embarked only to engage in incredibly dangerous activities.

 

Working at an almost primal level of operation, communicating in growls and hisses, Vagabond had initially assessed that Nathan had completely broken down on a mental level, and kept her distance.

 

Unlike the others, who seemed to pilot Nathan for short bursts of time, Red Eye stuck around for days on end, lurking around, hissing at the headhoppers in the vitrified areas. Once he realized he could merely pry the safety boards off and lunge headlong into the rooms to slaughter them barehandedly, the nightmare began.

 

He had numerous close calls as he charged in, howling and grabbing the nearest one to pummel it until it no longer moved. He had even gotten dangerously close to being bitten by the terrifying, black hissing ones, dodging it with a quick sidestep and bludgeoning it with its compatriot that he was already holding.

 

She kept finding him in rooms filled with dead headhoppers, torn apart by bites and claw marks, panting for air in a worn-down manner, and she kept having to patch him up and try to keep him pinned down.

 

He didn’t quite like it.

 

When he wasn’t getting Nathan’s body torn up, he tended to raid the kitchen, swinging open fridge and cabinet doors, uttering tiny growls and whimpers, seemingly unable to comprehend packages and their functions. She was worried about this one; although not the sweetest, he was certainly the top contender for most child-like.

 

He became overly emotional quite often; screaming and kicking his feet when he was logically stumped quickly shifted to soul-crushing depression and sob fests and back to frustration and the decision to completely destroy whatever it was that was stumping him.

 

...He wasn’t allowed in the kitchen without her being there. In fact, the boiler room was the only place he was allowed to be in. She had certainly taught him this after the dozenth time he had done something wildly illogical.

 

Most nights these days, Red Eye kept to himself, having cleared out all the vitrified rooms on the first floor was solace enough for him, she supposed.  The mangled headhopper corpses he left behind were barely useful, but the overall safety of the fort was much better since he had emerged.

 

She couldn’t complain, she just wished he’d be more careful about it. Although Red Eye had a keen knowledge of how Nathan’s body moved, and what was the most efficient way to turn it into a sleek killing machine, he seemed to have forgotten that Nathan was not an actual machine, and was still slowly recovering from the laundry list of injuries sustained in his trip through Aperture.

 

...Nathan...

 

Nathan himself seemed to be the rarest of all the personas; whenever he was conscious, he sealed himself away in the electronics wing, keeping much to himself.

 

At least, that’s how it was now.

 

The first two months, he was somewhat sociable, much to her chagrin, gaining information about how he compiled sudden injuries (which all happened to be from Red Eye’s purge of the headhoppers) and how everything was going.

 

After all his...incidents, he had become a bit of a recluse, spending all his spare time when he was piloting himself just building more and more things to help with everyday events.

 

Baited death traps with radio relays to announce they had caught something, probe-bots to inspect and maintain buildings that were red-marked, and even a mini-vacuum-cleaner on wheels to keep the floors from being cluttered with debris.

 

The incidents had become less and less frequent lately; the moments she would find him standing, staring out into space with those lost eyes, or having fallen in a frigid position and collapsed to the floor in a heap, or even curled up in a sleeping position, eyes wide open, yet completely unresponsive.

 

She was scared of them at first; he had been like this when she first found him, and the Auto Doc didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with him, but she had seen him sleeping normally, and not spaced out as he was...she hadn’t a clue what was wrong with him.

 

She looked through a medical book, a dictionary at the ready to help with any tough words, and tried to see what was wrong with him. The closest thing she could find at first was a thing called ‘stupor’, where people would just become completely unresponsive and sometimes would act like they were asleep, even if they weren’t. It had to do with another thing called ‘catatonia’, which was related to...something she had trouble pronouncing that had a lot to do with a person hallucinating, being anti-social, and rambling incoherently.

 

Sounded about right.

 

Looking to see if there was anything she could do, a medicine she could give him of some sort, or that she could get the Auto Doc to give him, all the options sounded worse as she went down the line. Any and all hopes of a permanent cure had terrible side effects, up to and including outright death.

 

Nothing sounded good.

 

The best she could think of was just remaining on guard near him, to assure he didn’t croak during one of these...’stupor’ incidents.

 

He had a tendency to have one of the weirder of the symptoms, “waxy flexibility”. She could sit him in any position, provided that it was a position he could realistically stay in, and he would merely do so.

 

She could think of some utterly childish ways to exploit it, but she usually maintained the standard of closing his eyelids shut and moving him into a more comfortable sleeping position.

 

As much as she didn’t want to take care of him like she was, she knew if he died, she’d be all alone again. Given her options being to let him live or let him die, she couldn’t bring herself to the level of letting him die, especially letting him die uncomfortably.

 

Despite what Morality said, Nathan wasn’t a terribly horrific person...towards her, anyways. Everybody made mistakes; it wasn’t her job to hold anything against him that he hadn’t done to her.

 

...Not that there weren’t things he hadn’t done to her, if he could remember any of it...

 

No, nothing would be held against him...for now. The job was to make sure he got back to good health. Then she could hate him all she wanted.

 

Health was clearly not a priority to him like it was to her, however. Lately, Nathan had barricaded himself in that Electronics wing, building himself a little workaholic’s paradise, forgetting the key essentials of keeping oneself healthy and in decent shape.

 

Foregoing food and hygiene in lieu of assembling little robots to do every little task seemed...completely unlike the person she had observed on the little memory disks he had brought with him; little plastic squares she could stick into the computer, filled with videos containing the memories of a single person, backed up onto a machine for some sinister and terrifying purpose, most likely. His memories were on one of those disks, up to a certain point. Considering how gruesomely they had ended, she was rather glad they stopped when they did.

 

Aperture was truly a place of devilish scientists, doing anything they could to get ahead. She couldn’t blame him for falling into the same habits as the others in the end, nor could she hold it completely against him that they fell into it against him either.

 

She couldn’t force herself to try and think of any more of that nonsense. Today was a nice, snow-filled day. All the headhoppers had retreated into the still-vitrified buildings now, allowing them to safely observe the stars.

 

Speaking of which...

 

She hadn’t heard much from him during her musings; not that she hadn’t been blocking him out.

 

She looked down, and noticed that he was curled up in a ball on the floor of the dome. She began climbing down her secure perch and walked over, taking a good look at him.

 

He appeared to be asleep; ‘Girard’ enjoyed sleeping outside, and with the bulletproof glass dome Nathan had haphazardly reconstructed from scraps in one of the industrial buildings Rick had reclaimed, it was one of the safest areas in the whole city to sleep in. With its circulating air system and breech-proof entryway, it was the perfect spot for a last stand against headhoppers, should a swarm of them successfully attempt to claim the building. All it needed was a more secure source of food, and one could theoretically live in it permanently.

 

She knocked on the glass to confirm her assessment, and he shot up, disoriented.

 

“Ah! What’s going...oh, hi. Are you okay?”

 

She stifled a laugh. Girard was quite the amusing and innocent fellow, unlike many of the other male personas.

 

[Are you going to sleep?] She signed. The delay in a response told her that Curi was busy translating to him.

 

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

 

[Are you coming inside?]

 

“No, I’m gonna sleep out here, if that’s okay. Not a lot of people get to look at snowflakes and stars in a dome like this, you know.” He gave a warm smile.

 

[Okay. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.]

 

“Goodnight to you too, Vagabond!” With a big smile and a wave goodbye to each other, the two ended their joint observation of the snowy night sky, and Vagabond retreated to her room for the night.

 

Upon the many items in her room, the one thing that bothered her the most was the Aperture Science device known as a ‘Personality Core’; the bright blue one she possessed had been reduced to scrap metal by some unknown party (she could tell from the signs of severe damage that appeared to have been buffed up and welded shoddily), remade into a floodlight by Nathan she presumed, and then hastily smashed and turned into an axe holder by herself. Her prized axe’s head sat cradled in the massive hole she had cleaved into it in a fit of rage.

 

It sat to remind her of the horrors she had gone through previously. Tonight it faced the wall, turned a full 180 degrees from its normal position.

 

She didn’t want to have it staring at her tonight.


	2. Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like he got the radio working...

The early morning sun shone into Vagabond’s window; time to get up and check on Nathan...or whomever he was today.

 

It was becoming a morning habit to find out where he was and to find out if he was alright. Deciphering who he was today was a secondary priority.

 

Walking out into the main lobby of the hospital, she could hear things occurring down a ways in the dining hall.

 

...He was up earlier than usual.

 

She poked her head in to see if he was already eating; nope, still cooking. She poked her head through the kitchen doorway.

 

Already showered, freshly shaved, in a new outfit, and slightly jumpy at her presence; seemed like Nathan himself was running the operation today.

 

He had started wearing a light blue headscarf in the kitchen about a month ago, but he had grown attached to wearing it just about everywhere to keep his grown-out auburn locks from getting in his eyes, rather than just trimming it down. She wondered if he had an aversion to shaving his head, or even just the concept of trying to trim his own hair in general. Either way, the headband and his acquired white kitchen apron made him look a little like some sort of hired help as he scampered around the kitchen.

 

Well, he was technically the hired help; she had basically outlined that he was allowed to stay if he kept up with maintaining the central air, power, lights, and any other electronic or mechanical equipment.

 

“Oh, morning. I’ll be done in a moment, and I’ll clean right up for you.”

 

She shrugged and walked over to inspect the fridge.

 

She’d have to roast up that headhopper he trapped yesterday; these things went south pretty quick, even with refrigeration. It was already starting to give the fridge a funny smell.

 

“So I, uh, found a radio in the trash out back. Fixed it up nicely...”

 

He grabbed a plate from the cabinet and sliced a few pieces of sourdough bread off the main roll, setting them on the plate. Turning off the stove, he grabbed a pan with a toweled hand and slid hunks of distinctive burnt mustard yellow meat-looking bits into the plate, then grabbed a small sauce pot on the back burner and simply coated the plate’s contents with a white roux. Vagabond chuckled softly in her head; the man had no taste of presentation, she had divined. Just, chuck it on a plate.

 

...As if her oatmeal was ever visually appealing.

 

“Not sure if you’re interested...in the radio endeavor...but I think I found something and, well, if you’d like to hear it, you can join me in the lab.” He gave a weak and nervous smile in Vagabond’s general direction before grabbing a fork and walking out of the side entrance of the kitchen.

 

...He heard something on a radio? Did that mean something was broadcasting? Oh, she was interested.

 

Breakfast could wait.

 

He had converted the whole wing into a cybernetic paradise, complete with security cameras which put a shiver up her spine every time she saw them.

 

At the end of the hall sat the garbage bin full of electronics items she had once deemed useless, now painted with the words “Assorted Electronic Equipment and Cords”; he had spent a few days alone organizing the contents, after the day it took to drag the thing inside. It took her the same amount of time to repair the floors from the damages caused from dragging a huge metal receptacle into the hospital and to the end of the Technology Wing.

 

The first room of the wing was a storage room for the more organic things; its main centerpiece was a hydroponics farm put together and run by a repurposed water filter and basic pump system, which ran nutrient-laced water down the length of four modified rain gutters. He hadn’t wanted to build it initially, since he wasn’t keen on biology and wasn’t sure what he would need, but a few books about plants and one on hydroponic technology, along with Vagabond’s persistence, made sure he built it to provide them with herbs and spices that were easy to grow, along with some... strange, alien-looking things Nathan had started growing. Luckily, those had their own little container.

 

Another room was full of chemicals and beakers; again, nothing overly complicated. But those weird plant-things were in plentiful supply here, locked behind a glass case and used for a variety of things. He had dragged the hissing headhopper they had encountered down to this room as well, and he nearly spent three weeks isolated, studying the thing, finally trudging out with his arms caked in drying, reeking inner fluids...she just really wanted to see what it tasted like.

 

In a few of the rooms, robotic construction tools had been built for automatons of all sizes and shapes; the ‘full-height-model’ robot bay was under construction, whatever that meant.

 

Some of the joints and limbs for the ‘full-height-model’ bots looked complicated and rugged, all filled with wires and pumps and gears covered in grime and rust. They were obviously not done; Nathan’s latent OCD assured that every last machine in the building shone brightly as they had on their first day of commission.

 

The long room at the end of the hallway contained all his gadgets and gizmos; battery charging stations, experimental hybrid tools, diagnostic tools, simple machines that were halfway tweaked or being repaired for commission, and everything else you could think of when it came to small devices.

 

Sitting on a desk, with nothing surrounding it, sat a familiar white radio with its flat black plastic bottom, gears and parts scattered all around it.

 

“My latest project, while I’m waiting to get enough materials to go back to the factory to the southwest again, is getting this little radio to see if it can pick up anything on multiple channels of bandwidth. Now I know that this tiny radio is simply for regular radio; I can see that you’re thinking that, but I’ve tweaked it a bit with a back-up transceiver in the back.  Have a look.”

 

He sat his breakfast place down on a table behind him and delicately spun the radio around, showing off a whole mess of wires and boxes, along with a second antennae.

 

“Got this from a broken CB radio; figured I could just combine it with nice, reliable Aperture technology to give it an extra kick! Now let me just realign this on the table, because this morning – you wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t show you – I picked up a transmission! And wouldn’t you know it, it’s a local signal!”

 

He flicked a switch and the machine whirred and sputtered, finally stabilizing the sound it was picking up. A steady, mechanically altered voice came in over the radio’s speaker in short spurts, disrupted by the occasional static.

 

“…requesting assistance…in…sector 117…low on ammo and surrounded by…please reply…”

 

He turned it off.

 

“Someone nearby’s requesting help! A real live person!”

 

Vagabond’s eyes lit up; someone else! She was relieved.

 

“After breakfast, I was hoping to use my transmission scanner here-” he held up a thin, translucent touch screen-type device hooked to a transmitter and antenna, wiggling it a bit before setting it back down. “and find the source. Would you like to come with?”

 

Vagabond’s head shook yes so aggressively, Nathan feared it would fly off. Luckily, it didn’t, and it stopped to display a wide grin on her face.

 

“Wonderful. You should go grab some breakfast and get some armaments. If they’re surrounded, there’s certainly some headhoppers to kill.”

 

Vagabond dashed to the kitchen; her sense of hope was as overpowering as her hunger for the first time in forever.


	3. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost makes you wish you stayed home...

Breakfast took no time at all to finish for dear Vagabond this morning; she just wanted to go outside. She could see the snow falling from inside the large dome on the roof; she’d need something to keep warm today.

 

She finished her bowl of oatmeal and flew down the escape hatch ladder as fast as she could, terribly excited.

 

She found Nathan in the lobby, looking very unusual. He had really dressed to the nine’s for the occasion; a white turtleneck, puffy light blue vest with a matching wool skull cap, dark red and white leather gloves, green heavy-duty slacks, brown leather snow boots, and a wool scarf with shades of green, vermilion, yellow, dark red, and blue stripes in it, alongside a very neutral cream tone, wrapped around his face and neck.

 

He was preoccupied with the translucent screen he had shown her previously, pressing on it and making a small robot on the floor move about. The screen itself showed a map of the hospital, which he tapped on to make it zoom back out; she could see a blinking light inside one of the buildings in the map that she presumed was an green-only outline of Detroit.

 

He didn’t notice her presence, and she didn’t mind much. She had to get ready.

 

Zipping up her body suit, tightening the straps of the bulletproof vest, tugging on her spraypainted arm guards, she finally snatched up her standard-issue-looking goggled hard helmet with gas mask and was soon done suiting up.

 

...She needed something else. A scarf, perhaps. Maybe even a fancy matching hat.

 

There was a wool orange ski hat with dyed snowflake patterns, as well as a matching scarf, covered in puff balls galore.

 

She fell in love. These would be hers.

 

The hat took a few tugs to get it stuck on the helmet, but the scarf took no effort at all.

 

As she dislodged her axe from...the holding sphere...in her bedroom, she could swear she heard more robot-type noises calling out down the halls.

 

She peered out; it was the vacuum robot making its rounds. Sighing, she walked down into the lobby.

 

Nathan had both his tool bag over his right shoulder, as well as a secondary sack with a red cross painted onto it slung over his left shoulder.

 

“Alright, I see you’re set. Shall we go?”

 

[What is that robot?]

 

“Oh, this? This is a STAR bot; a Signal, Target, and Radar machine that will pinpoint exactly where any signal or selected target is, using various radaring and infrared detecting systems, and all its data reports to this device in my hand.” He waved the screen softly. “It’s handy for sniffing out what floors of a building contain enemy units or radio signals in a radius of at least three miles...I’m working on the distance and accuracy outside the currently short mile and a half.”

 

[So it sees radio signals and living things?]

 

“Well, this is a simple prototype; I don’t quite have the capability quite yet to do everything I want, mostly due to lacking technology, so I must settle for working out the bugs in my programming until I get better detecting devices.” He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?”

 

[Yes, now!]

 

“Alright, no need to get pushy...” Nathan walked over and unlocked the padlock to the chains holding the door tightly sealed.

 

~~~~~

 

“DAD?! DAD! OH GOD, NO! DAD!”

 

A frantic and hysterical woman shrieked loudly without concern for safety upon the roof she had mysteriously appeared upon, looking around for a person no longer within her reach. Her sole onlooker, just as perplexed by the sudden situation they both found themselves in, tried to keep his calm as she continued in her frenzy, sobbing as she continued screaming.

 

“GODDAMMIT! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?! WHERE IS MY FATHER?!”

 

Her anger, however, quickly crossed the line of frustration and slipped into the territory of utter helplessness as she pounded the flat rooftop below her with a much weaker punch than before.

 

“...Why does that guy keep doing this to us, Gordon...?” She choked out.

 

The best her partner could think to do, to keep his own self from joining her in an indulgence of unshakable emotion, was to kneel down and rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

“He didn’t say anything...?”

 

“...No...” She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I don’t get this! What did we do this time to make...to make that guy send us here?! Why couldn’t he send my dad with us, too? And D0G’s gone, too...GODDAMMIT! I’m sick of these games!”

 

She slammed her fists against the snow-covered flat roof they resided on.

 

“...Alyx...”

 

“What?!” She looked up with a dirty look painted on her face; Gordon knew it wasn’t for him, though.

 

“Alyx, I sound quite impersonal but...we’re not in the hanger and I’m feeling light.” Gordon gave a brief and surprising look of annoyance before continuing. “Can you check your gun?”

 

It took Alyx a moment to comprehend the request, but she followed through, revealing a full clip in its chamber, as well as a second clip on reserve.

 

“Good.” He patted her again on the shoulder, giving a quick half-smile, in the hopes it would raise her spirits. Their survival was all on her for the moment, to both his relief and to his terror; he had to keep her from losing her cool until they found a safe place to recuperate. “Alyx, this’s a bad time, but-”

 

“You don’t need to pep talk me, Gordon. I know what I gotta do, okay? I don’t need you telling me anything; we gotta find a safe spot, I know...”

 

She sniffled again and wiped her eyes, and took a moment to breathe calmly. Gordon simply nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder and waited for her to find a stronger state of calm.

 

“There’s a door down the stairs.” He pointed to the door on the other side of the roof. “Maybe there’s a crowbar...?” He gave a sly half-grin.

 

“That would be your luck, huh? Okay, we’ll go inside and check to see if it’s good. If it’s alright, we can set up camp and figure out where the hell we are and why the hell we’re here.”

 

Gordon nodded and followed her lead down into the building.

 

~~~~~

 

With the STAR-bot leading them, Nathan and Vagabond began their trip around town, following the small device through the falling snow. The snow-proofed little rover moved faster than expected, and they found themselves quickly situated in a small red-x’d corner of the town; an old apartment complex a few floors high.

 

“Well, not optimum, but certainly not surprising.”

 

[If we are outside, will it still tell us where the signal is?]

 

“Oh, of course! It will even tell us what floor the signal is coming from!”

 

[Okay. I will open the door for the robot.]

 

She walked over and cautiously opened the door. The first hallway was completely empty, save for debris.

 

[Clean!]

 

“Oh, perfect. They must be upstairs.”

 

He moved the STAR-bot into the building, and before long, a muffled grunt of irritation slipped through the wool of his scarf.

 

“We’ll have to follow it. Too many floors and too many rooms, it seems. Sorry.”

 

[You need to fix it?]

 

“No, I need better technology.” He sighed, causing a plume of heated air to freeze in the cold winter weather around them. “But we’ll have to follow it.”

 

The task seemed simple enough, and the first floor suggested that it would be smooth sailing. Not a single headhopper was found, and the radio detector pinpointed the signal to a single point in the building but could not determine the floor.

 

“Well, we seem to have lucked out, Vagabond. The signal’s on an outer rim near a staircase. So, let’s just cruise along the staircases, shall we?”

 

Several more floors upwards, and a chill ran up Nathan’s spine. The infrared scanner detected a bright warm swarm several rooms ahead, worrying him and summoning a bright hallucination to appear before him. The humanoid creature bound in both a torn straitjacket and yards upon yards of dirty, bloodied cloth bandages from head to toe stood up tall from the crouched position it had appeared to Nathan to be in, causing the beady eyed creature to stand several inches above him in height.

 

“What is it?” He called out, drawing both its and Vagabond’s attention. “Oh, no, ugh...Red Eye. Alerting me. So is the scanner.”

 

[Okay.] Vagabond held her fire axe closer, and stood more defensively.

 

A muted and mechanical voice called out from the room, stifled and crushed by means they could not see from several rooms away, on the other side of the hallway.

 

[They sound hurt!]

 

“Indeed! We should send the STAR-bot in before us, then.”

 

Slowly inching the robot in towards the door, a hint of movement set off a warning beep, which only caused the movements to close in on the bot.

 

A half dozen headhoppers charged out of the room, lead by one of the hissing types, charged and began tearing at the device.

 

Red Eye was far from amused by their appearance.

 

“No, no, we’re not going t-”

 

Vagabond jumped as he dropped the monitor, the battery pack popping out and turning the device off as Nathan crouched low and charged at the pack with a loud, echoing howl.

 

~~~~~

 

“Gordon, do you hear that? That’s definitely a fight going on! Let’s get down there!” Alyx prepared her pistol and continued down the stair shaft, following the sound of the shouting.

 

The duo arrived at the scene to find an apparently suicidal man hissing at a much larger crew of headcrabs, led by a poison headcrab. A Resistance member, wearing weather-appropriate but camouflage-ruining attire along with their shoulder guards, took a step back, holding an axe closely to their chest.

 

Alyx realized that, given that they were both lacking in the gun department, she was going to have to help.

 

As one of the front headcrabs leapt at the man, she quickly dispatched the three that were closer to her, as well as the headcrab to the left of the poison headcrab, with her pistol.

 

One of the remaining generic headcrabs leapt at the man, screeching. Countering with a glare and a hiss, he snatched the headcrab by the leg with surprising reflexes and growled while smashing it against a wall with enough force to leave a mark. The headcrab cried in pain, but found no mercy from the enraged man, who kept the swinging momentum going and whipped it to the ground with all the strength he could muster in a single arm to do so.

 

The sound of the headcrab’s shell cracking, followed by a splatter of blood and a death rattle, was the surprising result, and the man saw it fit to ensure the creature’s demise by flinging it through the doorway nearby.

 

A terrifying and familiar crackle filled the air as a figure sauntered out, the dead headcrab perched precariously on its shoulder and swaying slightly while it made its way into the hall.

 

The Resistance member jumped back in shock as the Zombine yanked a grenade out and primed it.

 

“Sector is...” It lobbed the grenade high up as it drew an unearthly sounding breath, the parcel sailing over the crouched man’s shoulder and at the Resistance member. “...not...secure...”

 

The Resistance member slapped away the grenade with the flat side of their fire axe, beaning it towards the nearby room. The grenade exploded, creating a shockwave that knocked the member over and into the wall, the axe sliding out of their hands as they slumped in a heap against the wall.

 

This was getting too serious, as the man charged the Zombine and tackled it to the floor, clawing at the headcrab while growling and taking flesh wounds as the Zombine more successfully clawed at the feral human.

 

Checking her ammunition, Alyx thought she could continue helping. She fired a few shots into the Zombine’s headcrab, silencing it and taking it down.

 

Bewildered, and apparently unaware of Alyx’s presence, the man continued clawing at it, gradually slowing to soft punches and a confused growl.

 

Much to their undoing, they had neglected the poison headcrab, who leaped at the man with a fervor, whipping through the air. He heard the creature coming and moved his head out of range, but not his whole body. The solo headcrab latched to his shoulder and began pumping toxins into him, causing him to shriek in pain briefly before collapsing.

 

Alyx and Gordon both jumped in shock, and Alyx took aim, firing several shots into the creature, its death rattle muffled against the man’s shoulder. He collapsed to the floor, convulsing.

 

“God, he’s lucky...” Alyx commented, checking around as Gordon ran to the Resistance member’s side. “Empty, but I’ve got bad news.” Gordon looked up from his knelt position over the member. “The soldier was radioing for backup. We don’t have time to sit here. We gotta go.”

 

She bent over and yanked off the poison headcrab cautiously before checking his pulse. “He’s unconscious and pretty damn close. We might as well take him to bury him.”

 

Gordon gently shook the Resistance member, waking them up. Alyx smiled.

 

“Hey, we gotta go! You got a base around here?” She called out.

 

The member yanked off their snow hat, then removed their helmet, revealing themselves to be female. She appeared to be short of breath and dazed. Gordon helped lean her against the wall better, and when she spotted the man, she gasped.

 

“Your friend’s not looking good, and the Combine’re gonna be here any second. So do you have a base of operations or not?”

 

The woman nodded yes, then grabbed her axe, then the small screen device on the ground.

 

“Gordon, can you carry this guy?” He nodded yes as the woman ran over and grabbed the small wheeled device, then placing both the screen and the wheeled device in the man’s bag. Alyx could see the man had a nametag in the bag: Aperture Science employee, Nathan Spurling.

 

She felt a little pained, feeling like she had suddenly lost a bit of luck.

 

“I have a little more than two full rounds left, but we’re gonna get hammered if we can’t hide out in a bunker or something with a bit more firepower.” Gordon slowly picked the rigid man’s frame up, the poor fellow trying desperately to gasp for air as Gordon maneuvered him to lay against his back, his arms around Gordon’s neck. “Are you okay, hun?”

 

The girl adjusted her snow hat upon her head, opting to carry her helmet back. She then gave Alyx a large smile and a thumb’s up.

 

“Let’s go then. Lead the way.”


	4. Retaliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...So, that's an interesting collection you've got there...

Unsure of just what was going on, and just who her new acquaintances were, Vagabond continued out of the building as fast as she could go. Whoever the guy with the headhopper on his head was calling, they didn’t sound like nice people if they were supposed to be running away from them in a hurry.

 

With Nathan in his condition, these two were her only safety net against whomever was coming to try and kill them. The woman with the gun didn’t seem too sure about his survival chances; of course, she should have seen this coming. He had been a wreck since day one, and it was bound to catch up with him. Completely fine with it, so long as these two didn’t just skip town once they were in the clear.

 

They made it back to the hospital in no time flat, and Vagabond quickly unlocked the doors, letting the others in. She looked at Nathan, who appeared to be unconscious and had recently stopped heavily breathing and twitching frantically; if there was any hope for him, she’d have to give in and be a little more...verbose.

 

...No, she could direct the man named “Gordon” straight to the Auto-Doc with just a few gestures.

 

She locked the doors tightly, then tapped Gordon on the shoulder. He looked at her silently, waiting for whatever she was about to say. She pointed at Nathan, then gestured for Gordon to follow her.

 

She lead the brightly suited man to the Auto-Doc, and once they secured Nathan to it, she led Gordon out while the machine handled whatever had happened to him.

 

The woman sat impatiently, loading up her pistol in an agitated fashion. She heard Vagabond and Gordon walk in, and she looked up.

 

“Finally. What’s his status? Can we get some guns going before they get here?”

 

“Alyx...”

 

Gordon’s voice surprised Vagabond a bit, but it was steady and calm, unlike Alyx’s. Alyx looked down at the ground, sighing deeply.

 

“I’m sorry, Gordon. Just...she’s running around with an axe, and he didn’t have anything at all. We’re down to three of us to defend this boarded-up place, and I’m the only person with a halfway decent weapon right now.”

 

“An axe is fine.” He gave a smirk, and Vagabond didn’t understand why. It was probably some sort of joke between them.

 

“Fine. But I’m gonna either need a lot more ammo, or a much bigger gun. Miss, uh...”

 

Vagabond looked down the corridor. It was silent. She was fine now. She looked back at Alyx.

 

“Call me...Vagabond.”

 

Still as scratchy and soft as ever, she mentally muttered to herself. She cleared her throat, hoping it would help. They needed her to continue if they were going to live; they seemed like fairly decent people. It was important.

 

“...Alright then...Vagabond...” Alyx seemed a bit at a loss for words. “Do you have any ammo or guns here, or do you have just the axe?”

 

“We...have guns...I think...he handles...all the machines...” Vagabond began walking to the electronics wing, gesturing for them to follow her.

 

She sounded better, but it was hard to put all her sign language back into actual words she had to speak again.

 

As Alyx and Gordon approached the wing, an alarm went off. Surprised, the two jumped and stepped away, making Vagabond chuckle.

 

“You are...okay...c’mon...”

 

She waved them in, revealing and flicking off a hidden switch panel in the wall as they continued on.

 

They approached a room stocked with all sorts of defensive equipment, and Alyx’s eyes lit up.

 

“Perfect, there’s a box of bullets here for me. Gordon, you should grab a weapon for yourself...and before you ask, a crowbar isn’t exactly the kind of weapon we need.” Gordon dug into a pile in a locker, examining the various weapons inside while Alyx approached Vagabond.

 

“I hate to be rude, but it’s no time for an axe. Do you know how to use a gun?”

 

“...not these...”

 

Alyx gave a confused look. “How have you managed to live so long out here with the Combine snooping around using nothing more than an axe between the two of you?”

 

Gordon snorted humoredly, promptly causing Alyx to sigh.

 

“...What...who...are the Combine?”

 

Both Gordon and Alyx looked at Vagabond strangely.

 

“You don’t know who the Combine are?”

 

“...no...”

 

Alyx sighed. “Okay...the Combine are a group of humans and aliens who want to capture and enslave you, if you’re lucky. But since you’re wearing that lambda symbol on your arms, they’re just gonna kill you. Is there anybody else besides you two?”

 

“...not counting you two?...no...”

 

Alyx sighed deeply.

 

“Well...let’s do what we can. Here, take my gun. it’s really easy to use, just point and shoot. I’ll grab this rifle here. Gordon, whatcha got?”

 

He turned around, holding up a crossbow and a large bag of bolts.

 

“Perfect. How’s the roof for sniping? Do we have explosives?”

 

“I found grenades.” Gordon reported.

 

“Okay, that’s great! Can you get us up on the roof?”

 

“...Follow me.”

 

Vagabond walked out of the room, and Gordon and Alyx looked at each other.

 

“I like this girl. She seems nice. A little spacey, but nice.”

 

She led them up to her morning perch, and retrieved her binoculars for their benefit. They scampered over to the side of the roof and looked around. The uncomfortable sound of a vehicle approaching steadily prompted Gordon to load his crossbow.

 

Vagabond scoped around and spotted a truck with several people on board, then quickly pointed them out to Gordon and Alyx. The trio quickly took defensive positions behind an air duct nearby, over which they would have the best chance to spring an attack at the oncoming troop.

 

“Alright, remember, just aim and shoot. It’s okay if you miss; I’ll see where you’re shooting and we’ll both get it, okay?”

 

The vehicle stopped and the sound of boots rushing against concrete filled the air. Vagabond looked around and spotted a person wearing a suit similar to the one she owned a few blocks down; she aimed for the neck and fired a pair of rounds. The person crumpled to the ground, a loud flatlining sound filling the air.

 

Alyx, bewildered, looked around the vent to inspect the shots; she had hit her mark well. She could only look at the greenhorn marksman with an agape mouth.

 

“…W…well done.”

 

The woman gave Alyx a thumb’s up.

 

“Alyx, can you give me a little suppression fire when they get closer?” Gordon asked.

 

“You bet. You pick off the stragglers, okay Vagabond?”

 

With an accordance all around, the trio quickly looked around the air duct; several more Combine and CP units had come into view and were closing in around the hospital. Vagabond’s crack shots had apparently alerted them to their location; a necessary evil.

 

“Quite a mixed bag they’ve got…and they’re a little disorganized...what do you think, Gordon?” Alyx asked.

 

“We’re lucky.”

 

“If there was ever a bigger understatement to come out of your mouth, Gordon, I’ve never heard it.” Alyx grinned. “Okay, Gordon, I’m dropping some cover fire. Get ready. You too, Vagabond.”

 

Alyx reached over and shot off a round of bullets in no particular rhyme or reason, disorienting the incoming units long enough for Gordon to lean over and snipe the farthest back shotgun-toting soldier before he could become a problem. He leaned back in and began to reload as Vagabond leaned out and shot at a few of the CP units who were running towards the building, killing one of them and crippling the others.

 

A grenade sailed onto the roof, and Vagabond picked it up and tossed it back. The mid-air explosion sent debris and a minor shockwave through the area nearby, making Vagabond pull away and cower behind the air duct.

 

“If you see one of those, don’t toss them back! Just shout ‘grenade’ and point at it!” Alyx ordered.

 

A loud explosion rang through the sky, drawing everyone’s attention for a moment. A large cube-like object sailed down and landed on the Combine transport, crushing in the roof as it bounced off and rolled about.

 

Vagabond knew what it was, despite it being twice as big as she could recall. That was a Weighted Cube.

 

What was it doing out here?

 

It had managed to draw the attention of the two soldiers it had landed by, who merely poked it with the tips of their guns.

 

The cube responded with a whirring sound from underneath its mass; it slowly rose from the ground as six mechanical legs emerged.

 

Vagabond quickly positioned herself against the middle of the duct, covering her head.

 

“What is it?” Alyx asked.

 

“...Her.”

 

“Huh?” Alyx poked her head out, just in time to see the cube’s mechanical legs raise it to full height and the front panel’s central circle open, revealing a well-guarded laser scope.

 

“I see you.”

 

The chirpy, happy voice greeted the two soldiers, then the top circle in the cube’s design opened up. Out shot a wide-nozzled beam emitter, which pivoted and aimed at the closer of the two guards. A quick shot emitted a pulsed grid of red laser light, firing through the top half of the soldier. Burnt marks lined the suit from where the grid connected and ran through the soldier, but it wasn’t until the soldier crumpled and oozed blood did the other soldier have any idea that the laser itself had simply shot through the armor and diced his partner like a potato on the inside.

 

He wasn’t any more fortunate, as the cube-laser turret hybrid swiftly rotated the laser emitter around and diced the other soldier up faster than he could pick up his gun to fire.

 

Vagabond yanked Alyx back, then pulled both her and Gordon close to her behind the duct.

 

“What is that thing?” Alyx queried.

 

“Hers...”

 

“Who is ‘she’?” Alyx looked around Vagabond and at Gordon, who was just as bewildered.

 

The two blasts had drawn the mixed Combine units’ attention towards the mobile cube turret, and the closest unit opened fire.

 

“Projectiles detected...”

 

“Shields up, squeaky!” The shield’s voice declarer sounded a few steps deeper in tone, and more relaxed, to boot. The beam emitter tucked back into its frame, and from the edges of the cube, thin white panels pushed out slightly, then emitted a translucent blue light that covered all the edges of the cube, even protecting the legs. “Give’em hell! Ramming speed!” The cube charged blindly at the soldier, missing.

 

“Secondary sensors activated.”

 

“YEEHAW!” With the deeper voice’s cry, the cube changed directions swiftly and leapt at the soldier, the bullets from his gun simply hitting the light wall and dropping to the ground. Upon connection, the soldier’s non-metal attire caught fire, leaving the unit to flail and try to put itself out.

 

“Take that!” The deeper voice laughed, then dropped its top shield to re-emerge the beam emitter. “BANG! BANGBANGBANG! Hehehe.”

 

A few shots to nearby targets left the CP’s and soldiers to the same fate as the first two.

 

“Oh ho...I’m a bad man...let’s do this!”

 

Gordon broke out of the grip and looked out, firing a bolt into the back of the last remaining CP’s head.

 

“No!” Vagabond yanked him back in and held him tight.

 

“All targets down. Great job movin’ and lookin’ there, Squeaky!”

 

“Nice shooting, friend!”

 

The sound of a helicopter’s wings slowly began to fill the air.

 

“Whoa! Audio, up!”

 

“What’s coming, Squeaky?”

 

“Sounds big.”

 

“Alright, I’m going up top...”

 

The beam emitter pulled back in, and the top panel pulled back completely as a black-armored, green optic-bearing rocket launcher emerged. “Okay, what have we got here...?”

 

The helicopter shot quickly across the sky and hovered over the hospital, where it spotted Gordon, Alyx, and Vagabond and opened fire.

 

“Whoa, that thing’s a big metal bird with weird spinny wings! Permission to fire!”

 

As Vagabond, Alyx, and Gordon ran out of the gunfire, the rocket turret spotted them. “Hey, it’s the lady! And she’s got friends! That thing’s trying to kill’er Squeaky! Dig in, this’s gonna be a doozy!”

 

“Fortifying position.” The six legs rapidly slammed into the blacktop like a team of jackhammers, digging a small hole for the legs to set in.

 

“Rockets away!” A loud pulse of beeps sounded a lock-on, and a rocket launched from the turret, slamming into the nose of the rocket, doing enough damage to dent the nose slightly.

 

“DIRECT HIT! NEXT SHOT!” The turret locked-on to the tail and fired, denting it and sending the helicopter into a fatal tailspin out into the distance. “BULLSEYE!”

 

“Good job!”

 

Vagabond looked down at the little tank of a cube in wonder.

 

“Hey lady! You and your friends can come out now! I got all the bad guys for ya!” The green optic beam focused on her, making her duck behind the wall nervously. “It’s okay, lady! We came to help ya! The boss sent us to help ya out! C’mon down, the marshmallows are supposed to be here by now!”

 

“Well, your call, Vagabond!” Alyx called out, still crouched and far from the edge of the building.

 

“...just...keep the weapons...” She slowly stood up, and Gordon and Alyx followed her lead back downstairs.


	5. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's your grieving cake, you lunatic...

It was a tense walk down to where the cube tank was; the area was splattered with blood and mutilated bodies; Vagabond feared doing the clean-up, but she knew she’d need a face mask to guard from the smell.

 

“Hello, friends!” The chirpy voice called out, the light shields dropping as the machine climbed out from the hole it had dug itself into.

 

“Good job ducking and diving there, lady!”

 

“The boss was pleased with your marksmanship as well!” The port blinds for the turret adjusted themselves as the bottom optic spoke, much like that of a Personality Core’s. The two optics turned their laser pointers off and hobbled over, the startled trio raising their weapons.

 

“We come in peace, remember? Squeaky, you tell’em!”

 

“Heavy Turret unit, SPiDEaR class, reporting for tactical assistance of the domesticated zone! Shall I go into sentry mode on the roof for you?”

 

The trio lowered their weapons, and Vagabond gave the machine an odd look.

 

“Hey Squeaky, the marshmallows are late!”

 

“They probably retreated due to the unidentified flying craft.”

 

“The boss should’ve told them to come back by now...” The top optic rolled about in its shell. “Anywho, hi lady! Good to see you again! Now I know what ya look like, with the shiny working optic and all...”

 

Vagabond kneeled down, giving the top optic a long stare. The machine quickly retracted the rocket launcher to allow Vagabond a better view.

 

“Hehehehe, yeah, the boss thought about pulling us apart after you two booted the moron out and all, and she figured, ‘Hey, I might as well keep the two synched up and give the not-so-squeaky one all the weapons to play with, along with a working optic!’ Makes up for never getting any bullets, haha! How have you been, lady?”

 

Vagabond went stiff-lipped and glared.

 

Movement from the east drew Alyx’s attention, and she promptly aimed the rifle towards the line of trees across the small plaza they were in.

 

Two robots ran out from the small forest; one round bodied bearing a blue optic, and an egg bodied robot with an orange optic. Vagabond grabbed Alyx’s rifle and pointed it away, prompting Alyx to drop her stance.

 

“There they are!” The black optic chirped, causing the turret to turn to the east.

 

“Hello, friends.” The white optic cheerily called out.

 

The two robots jogged over to the small group and held out objects they were carrying in Vagabond’s direction. The woman looked skeptical, and ever so slightly pulled away from the objects; a flat screen with a visible camera embedded in the top, emblazoned with a circular logo of sorts, and a grey box with light pink hearts in the centers of the panels, similar in construction to the SPiDEaR’s frame, and framed with a eye-searingly bright orange ribbon tied in a bow.

 

The screen flickered on, displaying the circular logo again, now splayed with the name “Aperture Laboratories” before flickering to a blank, brown screened waveform display.

 

_Hello there, you little mute lunatic._

 

Vagabond gave a more intense glare, practically disgusted, or at least appearing to be very convincingly.

 

_I see you’re missing someone alongside you; that little idiot finally gone done in by his own stupidity. Frankly, I would have preferred that you did it yourself, seeing as how I worked so hard to deliver him to you in the most vulnerable state a human being could be without wasting perfectly good chemicals on him...but no, you decided to break the little metal idiot ball instead._

 

An annoyed sigh buzzed through the speakers.

 

_Well, in celebration of his death, I had these two marshmallows deliver you a cake in a nice little package and I ordered them to give you grief counseling, if you need any. Of course, if you’re feeling grief over that little moron’s death, you must clearly be as brain damaged as we all believed you must be._

 

The orange-eyed robot made little chirpy robotic noises, holding the box out closer to Vagabond. She cautiously snatched the box from the robots grasp, setting the pistol atop it.

 

_But I see you have new friends...your choices are highly disappointing. Employing the enemy now? You’re lucky I even sent one of my new little toys out to save you two, just know that._

 

A pause, then the voice began again.

 

_Oh, is that you, Gordon Freeman? You look just like your profile picture...you look rather good for your age. Very good for your age. As for you, female, I have no record of you, but wearing that infernal logo doesn’t win you any consolation prizes._

 

“My name is Alyx Vance...whoever you are.”

 

_Vance...Vance...Oh, there you are. Eli’s daughter. You look...well, fairly run down for your age. No matter._

 

“What do you know about the Bor-”

 

_Silence, Miss Vance. If you wish to talk to me, let us go inside. It’s too cold for any of you to be outside long._

 

“I shall accompany them, Master. Is this acceptable?” The white optic queried.

 

_Please do. You two marshmallows go inside, too. That’s a direct order._

 

“Yes, Master.” The black optic retreated into the cube frame altogether, and the small party retreated inside.

 

Vagabond carried the cake into the cafeteria, the group following her in as she set the box down on the table. She cautiously untied the ribbon, and unlatched the box pieces, slowly revealing a chocolate cake with chocolate flecks covering it, topped with whipped cream rings with cherries in their centers.

 

_Oh good, the marshmallows didn’t damage it. Well, go ahead and eat it...I promise there’s no neurotoxin in it..._

 

Vagabond looked up, an irritated look on her face.

 

_No, I’m being very honest right now. If I wanted to kill you with neurotoxin, there are at least twenty different ways I could kill you with it without wasting a perfectly good cake on you._

 

Vagabond sighed, then walked into the kitchen.

 

_Well, that was fairly quick. Maybe she really is brain damaged; or at least worn out from having to take care of the moron for so long. Now you, Miss Vance, will explain your knowledge of the Borealis._

 

“First, tell us who you are.”

 

_I will make the demanding around here._

 

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t trust you.”

 

_Oh, the Black Mesa employee’s daughter doesn’t trust someone from Aperture Laboratories with a secret? Pardon me while my irony processors warm up._

 

“Listen, lady-”

 

_Don’t you patronize me, little girl. I’ve killed people far more consequential than you, and you’re standing near one of my death tanks. Now, if you tell me what you know about the Borealis, I will tell you who I am. I think that’s a fair tradeoff._

 

Alyx growled.

 

“Fine. Gordon and I were about to embark on a venture to keep it from falling into the Combine’s hands...when we ended up here.”

 

_I see. You must be responsible for the sudden influx of dark energy in the area, then. Continue._

 

“We know where it is, but we don’t know its status.”

 

_I see. Well, fair is fair in this regard. It’s about time Black Mesa gave something to Aperture of value. I am GLaDOS, the core of Aperture Laboratories, its sole operating system and the only thing keeping this place from exploding in a massive radioactive fireball, much unlike the aforementioned dead moron. I am greatly sorry you had to experience him. In fact, I’m feeling generous; you two are permitted to have a slice of grief cake._

 

Vagabond walked back in, three plates, three forks, and a chef’s knife in tow.

 

_Only give these Black Mesa employees the standard one-serving slice; it’s all I will permit._

 

“We’re not employees. Black Mesa is done.”

 

_Oh, Miss Vance...?_

 

“You’re just as clueless as these guys. You don’t know anything about the Combine, do you?”

 

_Enlighten me, then._

 

“The Combine are an alien force who were brought here by a resonance cascade caused by accident. They attacked in full force...well, by my last recollection, 20 years ago. Who knows how long ago at this point. Black Mesa was destroyed and overrun. Those who survived, created a resistance force, and Gordon and I personally helped close the portal. That’s the simple explanation. We don’t know why they’re here attacking you guys, but obviously you guys have a pocket of them still stationed here, and frankly, I wanna pay them all back for everything.”

 

_You see, lunatic? It’s as I said; everyone loves revenge. I wish you had retained that lesson from a year and a half ago and applied it several months ago, but we simply can’t have everything we want when human error and/or possible brain damage is applied..._

 

“She’s not brain damaged, dammit.”

 

_...You’re right. The moron was in far worse shape and actually quite mentally damaged, whereas her own damaged state is merely a theory. His fault, really; terrible people have some truly horrible things happen to them, especially when they are nothing but selfish, back stabbing, murder-minded little moronic cretins who honestly have nothing but horrible and short futures in store for them due to their lack of foresight. Honestly, you are a non-discriminating mute murderer; did you merely sparing him because he’s such a pathetic waste of your time? If so, you pathetically wasted your time and resources on ensuring his recovery._

 

“Please be honest with your feelings for him, Ms. GLaDOS.” Alyx took a seat, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, a smug look on her face.

 

_Be fortunate that you did not know him._

 

The cafeteria door slammed hard against the wall, causing the group to jump and look over. In the doorway stood Nathan, looking enraged.

 

“What the bloody hell is going on here?!”

 

“Oh wow, you’re alive!” Alyx chirped.

 

_Ugh, you’re alive..._

  
  



	6. Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting of the minds; how many of those there are in current attendance is debatable...

The orange and blue robots chirped some robotic squabble and waved, and the black optic rose up from the SPiDEaR’s casing.

 

“Where should I shoot him, boss?”

 

_Don’t waste your materials on him. He’s already proven he’s perfectly capable of getting himself nearly dead on his own. We just need probability to kick in and have him do it while he’s alone._

 

“Piss off, you insufferable woman.” Nathan growled at the monitor, then glared at Vagabond. “And why in the hell did you bring Black Mesa people into our fort? And these robots, they belong to GLaDOS, you know that? You’re lucky she didn’t kill you yet.”

 

_You’re the only lucky one here; I could kill you at any time, and frankly, I don’t see the point of keeping you alive. But you are as hard to kill as the lunatic is, apparently. Besides, since you are all indebted to me for sending my SPiDEaR to protect you, I’m going to at least let you live long enough to do something for me that I can not._

 

Vagabond gave a faint smile, then gestured for Nathan to sit down with them.

 

“Oh, no, I’m fine right here in the doorway, leaning.” Nathan huffed. “What do you want from us now?”

 

_I want the four of you to infiltrate a building in the southwest that has been generating high amounts of dark energy. I would have destroyed it from orbit myself, but I want to study the power for Science. Since my last efforts to send reconnaissance failed miserably due to the high number of rogue machinery detectors and my marshmallows’ lack of stealth, I want the four of you to go in and retrieve the power’s source for me._

 

“So you want us to go possibly commit suicide for you?” Alyx grimaced.

 

_But it’s for a good cause... Science. Even you supposedly ex-Black Mesa-affiliated humans understand how important that is. The sooner I can get my hands on that technology, the sooner you can go. If you die, I’ll simply find a way to resurrect you. I have been dabbling with that little project I told you about, lunatic. Don’t worry; if you manage to live a little longer, it should be fully operational in case...any mistakes happen due to you listening to the moron a bit too intently._

 

“I am not...” Starting off with a yell, he petered off quickly into a deep sigh. “You know my name, you’ve said it more times than I care to have heard you say it.”

 

_I was informed that humans enjoy nicknames; mine for you is simply ‘moron’. Sometimes ‘that moron’. Nicknames are supposed to let everyone know who I am talking about, so why do you insist I call you something nobody calls you?_

 

Nathan sighed deeply.

 

_Don’t bother giving him a slice, by the way. This is supposed to be a grieving cake over his demise. He’s not allowed to have a slice of his own grieving cake._

 

Vagabond gave a look, then gestured that she had an idea. Setting down the knife, she walked into the kitchen. After a small bit of rummaging, she returned with a dead headhopper in hand, scaring Alyx and Gordon quite a bit.

 

“Why do you have a dead headcrab in here?!” Alyx shouted.

 

[Dinner!]

 

“She’s offering it as dinner.”

 

“Oh, ew.” Alyx’s look of disgust was even less enthused than her face.

 

“…Could be worse.” Gordon muttered. “Could be bullsquid.” They both shared a mild groan of nausea.

 

“And she grows all the herbs and spices she uses in my little jury-rigged hydroponics wing. It tastes a lot better than it looks, I promise.” Nathan smiled.

 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Alyx smirked.

 

“Can’t take a Brit’s word on good cuisine.” Gordon joked, keeping a straight face while Nathan glared.

 

“I’ll have you know that, while I’m not a trained chef, I’ve accumulated quite a penchant for wild game, and although it’s not a native species, it certainly is far from the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.”

 

Nathan pushed himself off the doorframe and wobbled unsteadily into the cafeteria, sitting down opposite Alyx and Gordon, glaring at them.

 

“So what brings you thieves here?”

 

“Let me guess, another Aperture guy.” Alyx snarked, leaning back.

 

“What of it?”

 

“Look, we’re members of the Resistance; Black Mesa is simply our rallying banner. We’re not here to steal anything from any of you, we’re here to...” She looked at Gordon, who simply shrugged in a lack of knowledge. “Well, we’re not sure what we’re here for, really. We were just sent here right before we ran into you guys. But there’s Combine here, so we’ll help you get rid of them, at least!”

 

“Then what? You’ll just take off with those weapons, won’t you?”

 

_Oh, this is annoying...I have more important things to do than to listen to you humans anyways. I’ll call tomorrow morning. Marshmallows, SPiDEaR-01, guard the building just in case the humans become too preoccupied to not notice an oncoming attack._

 

The screen went blank.

 

“Hey buddy, you’d better be happy we’re here; we saved your ass after you got bit, remember? You could at least give us that!”

 

“...Pardon?” Nathan pulled back slightly, perplexed.

 

Vagabond set the headcrab down on the table and began signing.

 

[He probably doesn’t remember. This happens sometimes.]

 

“No, I don’t remember, and yes, this does happen on occasion. I was wondering how we returned from the building, and though I can guess why I’m such a wreck, I can’t fathom why I feel so...rigid.”

 

“A poison headcrab bit you. We were certain you were a goner.” Alyx couldn’t quite manage to rationalize anger while trying to see if something would jog his memory a bit.

 

“Oh...? The little purplish-black hissing ones, yes?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Wonderful!” He slammed his fist on the table startling the others.

 

“More like miraculous, actu-wait, what?”

 

“Miraculous? Hah! Science. No, mithridatization.”

 

Gordon cocked an eyebrow. “...You...are nuts.”

 

“Mithri-what?” Alyx gave Nathan a look.

 

“I’m assuming you mean you injected yourself repeatedly with poison headcrab venom to inoculate yourself from it. That’s a very risky chance you took.”

 

“Well, when you put it ever-so-uneloquently, of course it sounds risky. Simply put, I’m the one running into them in a melee range 100% more frequently than she is, and, besides, I’m the one who does all the technological things here-”

 

“If you’re the tech here, maybe you shouldn’t be putting your health at risk.” Alyx muttered.

 

“Pardon?”

 

Vagabond huffed and picked up the headcrab, walking back into the kitchen.

 

“So you’re the tech?” Gordon asked.

 

“MIT-certified master mechanic, repairman, hard laborer, trap builder, and all-around helpful member of the fort of a hospital you are sitting in.”

 

“MIT? Really?” Gordon did his best to not look repulsed by the prospect that the madman in front of him held such a degree of prestige. Then again, Aperture hired him...

 

“Actually, yes.”

 

“They must’ve let all the whackjobs in after you left, Gordon.” Alyx joked, playfully elbowing him in the ribs.

 

“Et tu, eh?” A smug look filled Nathan’s visage. “And what were you? The local gymnasium head?”

 

“Theoretical physics.”

 

“Oh, the ‘degree in math-borne imaginary things’.” Alyx looked between the two, then took a fresh slice of cake and walked towards the kitchen to observe Vagabond.

 

“Higgs-Boson.” Gordon leaned back, crossing his arms. A look more smug than the look Nathan had previously given crossed Gordon’s visage; oh, he had this fast talker set up for an intellectual nosedive.

 

“Ooh, you little math tinkerers found one little thing you can’t even bloody see. Congratulations! How about giving a little credit to the brilliant mechanics who built you math nerds your big toys of universal chaos, huh?”

 

Alyx sighed as she slammed the kitchen door shut. “Boys.”

 

Vagabond shook her head, looking a bit disappointed.

 

Alyx grabbed a stool and sat down at the counter, idly fiddling with the cherry, thoughts swirling in her mind as she pretended to watch Vagabond chop away.

 

The rhythmic sound of cleaver going through shell stopped, and Alyx snapped out of her groove and focused on the room around her. Vagabond was leaning in, staring at Alyx intently in a strange state of wonder, blood-covered cleaver and all.

 

“Whoa, hi. Sorry.”

 

“You...gonna eat?” Her voice sounded steadier, less crackly and slightly more confident.

 

“Yeah, sorry.”

 

“...Sorry? For what?”

 

“I just...” Alyx looked away. She was making dinner, and she had her own problems. “Gordon and I...we were...” She sighed deeply her cheeks and nose reddening. “We were taken away from where we were at, and the Combine, they...they killed my dad.”

 

Vagabond leaned back, sitting at attention. “Oh. Okay. You’re mad at them...for killing him, and you want revenge. Why do you look so...bad, then?” Suddenly speaking so fast and clearly, Alyx was surprised both by the bluntness and the steadiness.

 

“I miss him. I didn’t get to bury him.” Alyx dropped the fork and pulled back, sniffling.

 

“...Oh.”

 

Alyx felt concerned with the woman’s lack of emotion; surely she understood what death meant. ...Maybe she had to check. “You...you know what I’m talking about, right?”

 

“Kinda. Why would you...feel bad about him dying? Everybody dies.”

 

“They killed him in front of me! He was dead in my arms and I couldn’t save him!” She slammed her hands against the table.

 

“Then get revenge!” A creepy grin filled the woman’s face as she shot up, troubling Alyx.

 

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

 

Nathan’s voice drew the girls’ attention towards the dining room, stopping their own conversation dead.

 

“What’s going on with them...?” Vagabond muttered, walking out. Alyx wiped her eyes and took a breather.

 

Vagabond drew the attention of the boys, and Gordon smirked.

 

“We’ve met.”

 

“We...well, attended school at the same time and-”

 

“I casually said his work was nonsense, and he jumped me in the men’s room. Broke my glasses. Couldn’t afford a new pair. Been wearing my spares ever since.”

 

“And what would you know of my work, anyways?” Nathan sneered.

 

Vagabond slammed her cleaver down, then sighed.

 

[Stop this argument.]

 

“Fine. I’m sorry.” Nathan sighed, then looked over to Gordon. “Can we just set the past in the past for the time being?”

 

“Forget it altogether. College’s when people do dumb things, anyways.”

 

“Good.” Nathan smiled, holding out his hand for a shake, which Gordon obliged to. “Alright, well, I’m going for a walk outside. Nice cold air and all. I’ll be back in a while.” He gave a soft, if shaky, grin.

 

Alyx walked out from the kitchen, sighing. “I hate to break up the party here, but I’m tired. I need a bed.”

 

Vagabond perked up, and gave her a smile, gesturing toward the alternate exit of the dining hall.

 

“Thanks.” Vagabond went to escort her, but Alyx gave her the cold shoulder, continuing out without her.

 

“I’ll go with you, Nathan, if you want.” Gordon chimed in.

 

“No, I’m fine by myself.” Nathan left for outside, checking his pants pockets for some reason or other..

 

Vagabond looked over at Gordon.

 

“…you got another spare bed?” Gordon asked.

 

Vagabond looked out, and waited until Nathan had walked outside.

 

“Yeah. Follow me.”

 

Gordon followed Vagabond’s gaze, then looked back at her. “Care to explain the muteness around him?”

 

“…Long story.”

 

“Right.”

 

Silently leading him down the corridor, Vagabond noticed a light on, and an unfamiliar sound pouring through an opened door. Gordon seemed a bit bothered by the sound himself, as Vagabond could tell from the subtle changes in his expression.

 

It felt a little awkward for her, standing next to a man who wasn’t much taller than her; she’d grown accustomed to Nathan hovering a good half a foot and then some over her, even when he was slouching.

 

It was going to be hard to match him up with clothes, though; the armor he wore was solid, completely hiding his actual shape in some places. Well, not that it would be hard to guess...

 

She wondered if it needed cleaning, and what to clean it with. Certainly the bulky metal thing needed more than a toss in the wash pile. Maybe he had a trade secret or something.

 

“Hey...?” Gordon caught her attention; she had been standing in the doorway, mentally floating for a few minutes.

 

“Sorry.” She sheepishly grinned and walked inside, Gordon following her in. She felt a pent-up bubble of excitement burst, and her shaky voice stood up as she began to run down the list of things she wanted to say.

 

“This room is yours, okay? It has a bathroom and a very tiny sanitation area with a door right there-” She pointed to the doorframe at the far side of the room. “I will get you a towel, and some little soaps, and some sheets for the bed and...do you want more than one pillow?”

 

“Whoa, no, thanks.” Gordon gave a nervous smile. “Are all the rooms like this?”

 

“Yes...oh! I should get Alyx everything, too!”

 

“...You should wait with that.”

 

“Oh?” Chell gave a confused look.

 

“She...she had a pretty bad day today.”

 

“Yeah, he dad was murdered, she said. What else happened?”

 

“...That’s about it, really. We’ve been really busy, and I forgot how many days it’s been. She probably has, too.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Well, I will wait then. I bet she would like a pillow to sleep on anyways after she’s done...feeling really bad.”

 

“I think she’d sleep on anything, really.”

 

“Even without a blanket?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Vagabond gave a stunned look. “...People out here sleep without blankets? But...you have blankets...and pillows...and you don’t use them?”

 

“Not too many luxuries when you’re on the run all the time. Sleep’s one of them. Pillows and blankets, the whole nine yards.”

 

“...Are you in trouble?”

 

“The guys who tried to kill you...they’re mad at us.”

 

“They’re the ones who killed Alyx’s dad, yes?”

 

“...Yeah.”

 

“Then I will help you with your revenge.” Vagabond smiled widely. “But, since we are safe, we can sleep, with blankets and pillows!” She ran out of the room gleefully, leaving Gordon perplexed.

 

“Couple of screws loose, indeed. But she’s a friendly, can’t complain.”

 

It seemed like Vagabond had returned with an armful of linens and clothes just as soon as she left; Gordon had barely managed to find the disconnecting pieces to the HEV suit to get out of it.

 

“Is that suit hard to get out of?” Her cheery demeanor remained as she set the pile down on the bed, next to where Gordon had sat down. “Let me help!”

 

“No, I’m fine. You can go.”

 

“...Okay...”

 

Vagabond slunk out of the room and closed the door behind her, making her way to the linen room again. Alyx needed things too.

 

Gordon quickly popped the secured latches, removing the HEV suit for the first time in a long time. Discarding the long-worn beater and boxer briefs, then pulling a towel from the pile of linens, and quickly jumped into the shower.

 

Oh yes, this was a fairly tiny showering facility, indeed. But it still had little hotel-sized bottles of body soap and shampoo, which he was certain that she restocked if you said you were out.

 

It felt almost like a cheap hotel, but a good portion of the stress felt like it had already leaked out of him.

 

…He’d have to check on Alyx later.

 

Meanwhile, Vagabond stood outside Alyx’s door, and gave it a good knock.

 

“Go away!”

 

Vagabond frowned, and set the linens in the hallway next to the doorframe. She’d come back later.

 

Hours went by, and Gordon had long passed out from pure exhaustion, Nathan had come inside with a large pile of guns and toys, and the roast was still going. Headcrabs, as Alyx and Gordon called them (which perplexed Vagabond, because she had seen pictures of crabs and crabs walked sideways and had cute pinchy claws! These creepy things were not crabs!), took forever and a day to become tender enough to chew.

 

...Maybe she should check on Alyx again.

 

A soft rap on the door, and no reply.

 

She slowly opened the door, and found the woman stretched across the bed seemingly asleep.

 

_Well, might as well let them sleep. Gordon said they had a bad day..._

 

Night came and Nathan (or Girard, more likely) had ascended to the observation area to view the sky. It was going to snow again, hopefully fill in the spaces left by the dead Combine troops.

 

Vagabond wondered where they could have come from; she had been everywhere, and never had she seen anyone like this. She had seen dead bodies almost everywhere, and those headcrabs, too. Maybe Gordon and Alyx would know.

 

Hours and hours went by, and all Vagabond could think to do was just sit in the kitchen and wait for the thing to finish. It was deep into the night, and she was starting to get tired. A nap had been planned at some point…some point…

 

She probably should have spent all the time waiting, just joining them in a big long nap…

 

The side door to the dining hall opened, startling her. Had she fallen asleep? Yeah, she probably had; she was feeling less exhausted.

 

She turned to see Alyx in the doorway.

 

Ooh, the headcrab smelled done. She needed to check on it.

 

Vagabond put on a pair of oven mitts and yanked the headcrab from the stove with minimal effort, setting it on the counter. She then grabbed a grill fork and a pair of tongs, and began inspecting the insides by lifting up the soft undershell segments that had been sliced open prior.

 

The smells of earthy aromatics immediately filled the room as the steam poured out; she began picking the bay leaf bits out with the tongs while trying to keep all the rosemary in that she could.

 

Taking the little plastic covers off the holes that the legs once stuck out allowed more steam to billow forth, and the action distracted Vagabond from the sound of the kitchen door swinging open.

 

“Hey, it’s done.” Alyx commented softly.

 

“Yup! All done!” She smiled widely. “You hungry?”

 

“…Not really.” The look on Alyx’s face as she sat down at the counter told Vagabond all she needed to know; the woman was still upset about her dad.

 

“…Why do you still feel bad about your dad?” She moved the headcrab out of her way so she could look at Alyx without anything between them.

 

Alyx shot her a look of incredulousness and just shook her head. “Have you ever lost anyone in your life?”

 

“Everyone I’ve ever known is dead. My parents. My friends. My teachers. The scientists. Everyone. Everyone but Nathan. I don’t get the point of feeling so upset about it; it’s not like I can cry them back to life. And if I could, there would be no point in death. Death is an absolute; it is the only thing we share with everything in the universe, even machines and meteors.”

 

Alyx couldn’t think of a response; the lines seem rehearsed and ingrained, but they were factually correct nonetheless. Vagabond truly had no concept of attaching emotion to death, and it both amazed and terrified Alyx.

 

“Now, you hungry?” Vagabond slid the pan with the headcrab on it back between them.

 

Alyx could only stare at the de-legged vermin, lost in thought.

 

A few wings down, Nathan was sorting through the collected machinery like a kid in a candy shop. The guns were fast and loaded with foreign rounds, the armor was reinforced and lightweight, and the electronic devices glowed with an eerie and foreign light.

 

These Combine had something amazing, indeed.

 

He dashed down the hallway, stopping at a closed door. Was one of them in there? He knocked, getting no response. He sighed and opened the door to find an annoyed looking Gordon, out of his bulky suit and glasses and in some comfortable bright orange pyjamas, glaring at him.

 

“I was sleeping.” He grumbled. Nathan noticed a nasal strip attached precariously to his nose; he wondered if Gordon was just bad at applying them, or if someone was trying to not wake him up while doing it themselves. Gordon attempted to fix it while muttering under his breath.

 

“Sorry, mate. I was just coming in to see if you’d like to help me add some of these things to my technology database.”

 

“Don’t you sleep?”

 

"It's possible that I do.”

 

A look of incredulousness filled Gordon’s face for a few moments before he got out of bed.

 

“Fine, let’s look it over.”

 

Gordon stumbled about as he left his room and followed Nathan; getting only a few feet from the door before groaning.

 

“Glasses.” He muttered, sauntering back in. A few moments passed, and he returned with both his glasses and his HEV suit. “Might as well run maintenance.”

 

“Oh, perfect! Mind if I scan that as well?”

 

Gordon merely shrugged. “Sure.”

 

“Wonderful!” Nathan grinned.

 

The screening lab’s walls were lined with jury-rigged monitors hooked to repaired scanning machines, currently all filled with different pieces of Combine technology.

 

“What do you need to work on your suit, Gordon? I’ll go get it for you.”

 

“Flat surface.”

 

Nathan cleared off one of the tables and let Gordon lie the suit down on it.

 

“Alright…I need a crowbar.”

 

“A crowbar?”

 

“To open the front panel.”

 

“…alright…” Nathan left and returned with a semi-rusted crowbar, but to Gordon’s disapproval.

 

“You don’t take care of your tools?”

 

“I never use this thing, and I found it in a trash heap.”

 

“A tool’s a tool. I’ll fix it up if you get me some sandpaper, some lube oil, and some spray paint.”

 

“Fine.” Nathan huffed. “If you love it so much, you can keep it.”

 

Gordon smiled widely. “Thanks.”

 

He quickly and expertly used the sub-par crowbar to pop the chest panel of his suit open, revealing numerous colored vials and tubes.

 

"What is all that?" Nathan poked his head in to look, causing Gordon to give him a mild look of annoyance.

 

"Out of the light."

 

"Oh, sorry mate." Nathan took a few steps back, continuing to eyeball the gear from a distance. "What's the black stuff?"

 

"Morphine, and I'm low on it."

 

"The bloody hell do you need morphine for?"

 

"Not feeling the laundry list of injuries I've gotten."

 

"Are you alright? We have an Auto Doc if you need it."

 

"I might go use it later." Gordon smiled. "Think you can spare some morphine?"

 

"We should have some surplus in the hospital wing..."

 

Nathan walked out, giving Gordon the peace he was looking for. He grabbed several of the Combine batons and popped out the batteries, using all but one to charge up the suit's shield.

 

He hadn't been able to make heads or tails of this duo since he ended up there; how they evaded the Combine for however long they had been out in the world, why there was only two of them, and why they both seemed so dysfunctional as a unit member looking to aid another.

 

The last thing bugged him most of all; with their Combine evasion, it could have all been luck and the Combine not coming around their hovel enough to notice the fort, but they seemed to have a history together that was somehow so terrible they simply couldn't find it within themselves to make amends.

 

Continuing with the filling, the supply of energy wasn't enough to fully power his shield, even with the reserved one.  Gordon sighed, disappointed but still happy he got anything.

 

"Are you mad?! What are you doing with those?"

 

Gordon looked up, and Nathan's face was painted a shade paler, his eyes wider than usual in shock.

 

"Charging my armor."

 

"Give me that," A heavily annoyed tone was spat at Gordon, like a parent towards a wayward wild child, as Nathan snatched the reserved power battery and replaced it with the bag of morphine he had returned with. "and here's your bloody morphine. Stay out of my studies."

 

Gordon just sighed, shaking his head as he continued running his maintenance, cleaning and filling up the morphine vials. Examining the external plug-in for his long jump module, thoughts of Xen slipped from the deep recesses of his mind and invaded his conscious thought, giving him chills. All that work, seemingly for nothing.

 

A sudden sound disrupted the reverie; a small, tinny sound that reminded Gordon of a music box from behind him singing a complex melody. Turning around, he saw a small harpsichord playing itself, sitting nearby Nathan as he methodically went through a small pile of ammunition, examining their size ratios with a measuring tool, typing in everything he observed.

 

“What’s with the music?” Gordon queried.

 

“What? Can’t handle a little Bach while working?” Nathan still sounded annoyed.

 

“Just wondering…not used to it.”

 

With all the machinations of the suit itself functioning, Gordon set out to repair the physical damage. Parts of his suit seemed to be held together with duct tape; Alyx’s bright idea had left him with a few patches of his arms and legs devoid of hair and stinging, but nonetheless protected.

 

“You got spare armor materials?”

 

“Look around the room across the hall; I keep all manners of body armor in there. Don’t care to wear it myself; hardly ever need it, and most of it doesn’t even come close to fitting.”

 

Gordon rolled his eyes and walked over to the room, finding adequate substitutes for the materials that made up his HEV suit; they’d have to do for now until he could ever obtain a genuine spare. Returning with the armor bits, he caught Nathan poking around the suit with a scanner. Gordon glared, and once Nathan noticed he’d been caught, he gave a simple ‘what?’ in response, waiting a few seconds before he moved away from it.

 

Gordon sighed and sat down in front of the armor again, beginning the long process of removing the black and silver scraps of duct tape before starting actual repairs. Taking a whole two hours, he managed to piece and solder together what he could; his suit was starting to look like a junkyard car these days, with the mismatched pieces attached.

 

It would have to do.

 

Speaking of looking like something pieced together ad hoc…

 

He sighed and grabbed his suit again, deciding he should check the Auto-Doc out.

 

An hour later, Vagabond and Alyx were greeted with a worn-out looking Gordon in his pyjamas.

 

"Headcrab?" Vagabond held up the pan as Gordon sauntered in, plopping into the chair next to Alyx.

 

Gordon tiredly waved away the offer. “Later.”

 

“You should go back to bed.” Alyx nudged him.

 

“Can’t sleep. Her friend woke me up.”

 

“Moron...” Vagabond muttered, digging into the headcrab for seconds.

 

“Tried the Auto Doc. I’m out of it from all the anesthetics.”

 

“You okay?”

 

“Had a pile of slugs cut out of me. I’m surprised I managed to walk all the way here without crawling.”

 

“You need sleep.” Alyx patted him on the shoulder.

 

“Sleep and food.” Vagabond corrected.

 

“Yeah, you really should get something in your system. How long’s it been since you ate?” Alyx sounded unusually concerned.

 

“No clue. Time eludes me.”

 

“No kidding. Grab a bite.” Alyx eye-motioned towards the headcrab.  Vagabond shuffled her plate and fork over in front of him.

 

“It tastes amazing. It’s even something you can chew without a lot of effort, which is a wonder in itself.” Alyx had told Gordon the horrors of the time the Vortigaunts served roasted headcrab, and he felt fortunate that he had never gotten to have it. If this was actually good stuff, by her account...he felt a bit unsure if she was pulling a prank on him.

 

“...oh really?"

 

“Would I lie to you?”

 

“About most things...can’t imagine you would. About things that are edible? Well...”

 

Alyx gave a faux-angry look and playfully pushed his head away from her as a wide grin spread across his face.

 

Vagabond sighed wistfully. She was happy to have a pair of relatively stable people around.


	7. Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to scale the mountain...

The sun had barely crossed the far horizon when the device GLaDOS had sent them began making noise, trying to catch the attention of all who were nearby.

 

The sound startled Gordon, who had just fallen back asleep at the table. He scrambled to find his glasses as the screen flickered on.

 

_Good morning, as the saying goes._

 

“...hi...”

 

Alyx and Vagabond popped their heads out from the kitchen.

 

_Oh there you are. Where’s the moron?_

 

“Probably still in his lab.” Gordon muttered, grabbing his glasses and putting them on.

 

_Will one of you go retrieve the moron?_

 

Vagabond sighed, leaving the kitchen after handing Alyx a hand towel.

 

Once Vagabond was out of earshot, the voice spoke again.

 

_Just so that both of you know, just because you are working for me, does not mean I won’t kill the both of you after you have finished. I honestly don’t trust her with you two, but I ran the numbers and, to be honest, she’s better off with you two than she is with the moron. I thought being honest in this situation would be prudent, so just informing you: I have the right, as a main objective to preserve Science, to murder you both after you have completed the task I have allocated your services for. Do you both understand?_

 

“Yeah.” Gordon muttered, resting his head back down on his arms.

 

“Sure.” Alyx replied, turning away and rolling her eyes.

 

_I can see you doing that, you know._

 

A stationary panel in the wall moved suddenly, letting its placement and purpose known to Alyx; she could see the tiny lens in the center of the wall tile.

 

_You didn’t think that I would allow any of you to come this close to my facility for a second without ensuring that I could watch your every move, did you?_

 

The dining hall’s secondary doors burst open, Nathan far in front of Vagabond.

 

“Alright, what do you want, GLaDOS?”

 

_Sit down and shut up, you moron._

 

Nathan scowled as he took a seat at the far end of the table.

 

_Good. Ms. Vance, please join us._

 

Vagabond took a seat across from Gordon, and Alyx took a seat next to him, causing him to sit upright again.

 

_Perfect. Now we can start._

 

The panel emitted bright lights upwards, forming a map of Detroit.

 

_You are here._

 

An orange light blinked near the top middle portion of the map, over a large building.

 

_The tower, which is emitting a strange energy that you are being tasked with retrieving for me, is here._

 

A blue light blinked over what appears to be a wide open space several miles away.

 

_There have been signs of activity there for a few months now, but ever since you two arrived, the activity has skyrocketed, and the strange energy emissions that had been very low have increased dramatically. Since there are four of you now, I feel it is time to find out what it is those people are doing and, if they are mobilizing to take the area over, to crush them and steal away their technology for studying. Frankly, if you fail to secure the energy source, don’t bother coming back from this. Do all of you understand?_

 

The group nodded yes.

 

_Good. Now, I am going to send the marshmallows to scout the area, and they should have a proper report by tomorrow. You have 24 hours to prepare the mission; I think that’s more than generous to amass a pile of supplies to either stealthily recover the energy source or to take it by force. I will contact you tomorrow morning with more details. Now get going._

 

The moment the screen went blank, Nathan stood straight out of his chair and unpursed his lips to speak. “I shall continue running maintenance on my equipment. If anyone needs me, I am not moving from that wing.”

 

Without waiting for a response, he swiftly left out the side exit.

 

After a few moments, Alyx turned to Vagabond.

 

“Need help preparing?”

 

“I’m fine.” A wide smile spread across the young woman’s face.

 

Alyx smiled back, then stood up. “Well, I need a shower. Where are the towels?”

 

“I will get you everything! You just go in your room, okay?” Vagabond slapped Alyx on the shoulder with a heavier than expected force, then ran out of the dining hall.

 

“She’s like a box of sugar-filled kittens, isn’t she?” Alyx softly chuckled as she looked over at Gordon, rubbing her shoulder.

 

He was, once again, sound asleep. He had just been awake during the briefing! ...He was really taking advantage of the peace, likely.

 

Alyx contemplated trying to drag him to his room, but she decided against it, thinking the attempt would be best made if Vagabond was able to help.

 

Once she was properly cleaned up and relaxed, Alyx wasted no time in going into the armory. She quickly filed and organized what they had inside, then began selecting the best pile of armaments she could think of. Four pulse rifles, eight semi-automatic handguns, a dozen grenades, and a small hill of ammo, all set aside in a crate for later.

 

Medical supplies were also paramount. Taking four dark canvas bags from the linen room and scrounging up four rolls of duct tape from the construction supply room she found from the map written on the wall on the way to the linen room, she beelined for the medical supply room, sorting out a few dozen stimpacks, antibiotic gels, rubbing alcohol, and gauze wraps for each bag.

 

At some point, the thought that she was bringing too much crossed her mind, but the knowledge that Nathan and Vagabond were not seasoned Resistance fighters wiped the idea away. Sure, she and Gordon could do quite a bit of damage…but they were essentially going to have to guide the pair through the place. She didn’t want to think that way, as Vagabond was both mentally and physically capable of handling an attack from the Combine, but this was going to be something a million times harder for her than what they had just thrown at her.

 

This was a base. The Combine would be waiting for them.

 

She moved all the supplies into the wide open living room and sat down.

 

She spotted Gordon leaving the dining hall, looking well-rested; he was good to go once he got his suit back on, it seemed.

 

Vagabond spent half the day preparing traveling food, which Alyx noticed included lots of dehydrated looking fruits and meats.  As she ripped them up and sorted them into little plastic bags, she sang a little tune which sounded vaguely like some sort of opera.

 

“Cara bella, cara mia bella!

Mia bambina, o ciel!

Ché la stimo,

ché la stimo.

O cara mia, addio!

La mia bambina cara,

perché non passi lontana?

Sì, lontana da Scïenza,

Cara, cara mia bambina?

Ah, mia cara!

Ah, mia cara!

Ah, mia bambina!

O cara, cara mia...”

 

“That’s a nice song.” Alyx commented as she walked into the dining hall.

 

“Thanks.” Vagabond smiled, looking over at the screen device. “She…sang it to me when she sent me up here. I don’t know what it means.” She shrugged and softly chuckled, then continued. “I sing it when I’m alone. Raises my spirits a bit, ya know?”

 

“Yeah.” Alyx then looked down at the bags. “That’s a lot for four people.”

 

Vagabond eyed the weapons crate Alyx was hauling. “That’s a lot of guns for four people.”

 

“I’ve seen people carry more. Foolishly, but it’s still pretty reasonable.”

 

“Well, I have my axe. I am fine.”

 

“You’re gonna need at least a pistol or a rifle as long range back-up, unless you’re going to rely on dropping traps on these guys.”

 

Vagabond gave a look. “I really don’t like guns...but you really think I need a pistol?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’ll give you one and some extra ammo.” Alyx smiled. “Do you guys have a car or something to drive to the location?”

 

“…Car?”

 

Alyx sighed. “I’ll let Gordon know.”

 

“Let me know what?” Vagabond and Alyx looked over to the side door to find Gordon scraping the spray-painted top of a crowbar with a small stick, testing the paint.

 

“They don’t have a car.”

 

“Oh. Well, that’s no problem. I’ll handle that.” Gordon gave the girls a wink, then left the room.

 

“Well, at least that’s gonna get taken care of.” Alyx muttered.

 

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief as he walked to his room. Giving the restored crowbar a spin, he sat it on his pillow while sitting down on the bed. He had started to get comfortable in the clothes Vagabond had given him, but he knew that, like getting any more decent sleep, all good things had to end eventually.

 

He'd wait until tomorrow morning, get all freshly showered and maybe even shaved and tidied up for the first time in forever.

 

He wasn't sure how, or even why, Nathan managed to always look freshly shaved and well-coiffed, now that he had a second to think about it.

 

...it seemed silly to think about it, now that he was actually thinking about it.

 

He had way too much time to think. The Combine had been too quiet. He needed to distract himself...maybe Vagabond needed some help.

 

Later in the night, and it was another headcrab dinner; leftovers from the night before, served with a side of roasted potatoes. Where Vagabond had found the means to grow anything was a mystery; the variety was absurd. She claimed she had just come across them in her travels around the area, from abandoned plots still stocked, the occasional body of some former resident having properly sealed them away to prevent spoiling.

 

Nathan didn’t join them; Vagabond said it was normal to eat dinner without him when he was tied up in his work. A workaholic, a meticulous perfectionist to the core, she laughed and told them that’s not the way he was when she first met him, though she conceded that he was clearly a completely different kettle of fish at that point. He was a severely self-obsessed and paranoid mess, hell-bent on making her suffer for some deluded wrongdoings towards him.

 

She wasn’t too exuberant about talking about specifics about it; they didn’t pry more than they had tried to.

 

She talked about the equally paranoid and psychotic boss of hers that they had been hired by, this “Glados”. She seemed like she was just xenophobic and protective of the company’s work, while looking to steal away the technology of others for the sake of advancing her company.

 

And while still beating the drum of Black Mesa being a giant mess of thieves.

 

Science was a very complicated matter, regarding who was stealing what, in Gordon’s mind. It was all relative, the great war between Edison and Tesla crossing his mind. Competition sparked innovation, perceived thievery seemed to always prompt a scientist to jump forwards and build or invent something their rivals couldn’t, and so on and so forth.

 

All competition in science was friendly, until dueling pistols and sabotage came into play.

 

…He had completely glossed over what she was talking about, and it seemed like something important. Oh well. Dinner was over, and it was time to rest.

 

Sleep was a privilege these days, not a right, and he was content with taking every advantage to obtain it.

 

…He had to remind himself to find a damn car tomorrow, having spent the day polishing up the crowbar. Eh, priorities.

 

Night faded into sunrise, and Gordon was out the door, hunting for a vehicle while Alyx got everything all laid out for the four of them.

 

Vagabond had gone to wake Nathan up, and after five, left and returned with a lockpick. The guy was apparently a heavy sleeper when he obviously slept.

 

An hour later, Gordon returned with a white armored sniper in tow, long range rifle and all, and flopped the body down in front of the gear.

 

“He was scoping the wrong building. Go figure.”

 

Alyx looked up at Gordon. “You find a vehicle?”

 

“He had a big jeep.” Gordon held up a key.

 

“Perfect. Let’s get loading.”

 

“Wait, are you warm enough? It’s really windy out.”

 

She looked down, realizing that being in an open vehicle in the winter was probably a bad idea. She inspected the armor, deducing that she could probably fit into it.

 

“I’ll give the suit a try.”

 

Stripping the sniper of his suit, she took the ensemble into her room and gave it a try, finding that it was actually not as spacious as originally thought, and it felt quite insulated. The helmet was a bit wobbly, but that was the least important issue to her as she secured to lock on it.

 

She walked out and looked out towards Gordon, who seemed amused.

 

“What? Is it that obvious?”

 

“No, just…” He hung his head, trying not to laugh. “Between you and her? I feel like I’m in an all-woman stage production of the rescue mission on the Death Star.”

 

“…What?”

 

Gordon’s face twisted from amused to a little panicked, and then to quite sad. “Ugh, nothing. It looks fine.”

 

A yelp shot up from Nathan’s wing, and Alyx and Gordon looked over. Vagabond stared at Alyx in terror, leaning up against the wall.

 

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s just me.” Alyx lifted the helmet. “You think I was one of them?”

 

“No…sorry.” Vagabond held her chest and sighed deeply in relief. “I...the ha-ha...hahaha, no! No no no, never mind. I am fine.”

 

“...Oooooookay. So, how’s Nathan?”

 

“He is…ok. He will be up soon.”

 

“When’s he usually get up?” Alyx asked.

 

Vagabond looked a bit blank. “Not sure.”

 

“Can you wake him up?” Gordon asked.

 

“I will try.” Vagabond then made a beeline for the medical wing.

 

Gordon silently looked over to Alyx and cocked an eyebrow.

 

“What’s she up to?”

 

“Maybe she doesn’t want to wake him up.”

 

“You wanna help me wake him up?”

 

Gordon shrugged and stood up.

 

“Let’s see what’s going on. Maybe we can help.”

 

Walking down the hall and into the opened-up room at the end of the hall, Alyx and Gordon spotted Nathan slumped precariously in his chair, his eyes half-open and glazed over, staring off into the abyss beyond the wall. He appeared to be talking, his lips moving silently. Alyx moved over and leaned in, tryin to hear what he was saying, but not even a whisper rose from him.

 

"I can't read lips. Can you?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Damn. He's just mouthing words over here."

 

She turned towards Gordon, and noticed him hovering over what looked like an unfinished piece of torso armor.

 

“He’s quick.”

 

Alyx looked over. “That looks like-”

 

“Yeah, it is. He was scanning my armor yesterday while I was looking for things to repair it.”

 

“Unless he can match both Black Mesa and Combine technology perfectly with the buckets of scraps he’s got here, he shouldn’t try.”

 

Nathan stirred, causing Alyx and Gordon to look over at him.

 

A groan escaped his lips as he clenched his eyes shut and winced. Alyx left Nathan’s side and stood next to Gordon.

 

“Morning, sleepy head,” Gordon quipped.

 

“Time to get up and leave.” Alyx added.

 

His eyelids flittered for a few moments, before allowing his eyes to dart about madly to assess the situation. The confusion in Nathan’s face twisted into a pure rage as he quickly mobilized and shot up out of his chair.

 

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?! OUT!” His semi-slurred animosity made Alyx and Gordon jump as the livid man grabbed them both by the collars and half-dragged them out into the hall. “And stay out!”

 

He slammed the door behind them, locking it instantly.

 

A few seconds later, Vagabond ran into view, something small in hand.

 

“You’re gonna have to pick the lock again, lady. He’s pissed at us.” Gordon commented.

 

A deep, annoyed growling sigh rose up from Vagabond as she seemed to slump slightly in defeat.

 

Vagabond walked over and banged her fist on the door numerous times, getting an ‘Oy!’ from the other side of the door. She banged harder, snarling at the door.

 

Nathan opened the door, looking quite annoyed and glaring. “I told you to-…oh.” He cowered, looking nervously to the left. “Sorry, thought you were…them.”

 

She put the object in her hand in a pants pocket and began giving gestures that neither Alyx nor Gordon could decipher.

 

“I, I know we have things to do, I just need to straighten things up here! I fell asleep halfway through things, just trying to get everything together.” He took a step back, letting his body stand loosely like a marionette. “Did you need something?”

 

She again gestured; obviously some form of sign language. Alyx looked over at Gordon, silently trying to ask him what was going on. He merely shrugged and continued observing.

 

“Well, I have a little...a little scanning bot for distractions and map building; She wouldn’t give me the wavelength...energy wavelength that She is looking for, but I do have a little device thing that will give a little ping if it senses some sort of energy that doesn’t match the weapons, or anything we have here.”

 

She looked over at Gordon and Alyx and smiled, giving a thumb’s up, then again signed at Nathan.

 

“Give me a half hour, please, at least.”

 

She nodded yes, then walked down the hallway, leaving Gordon, Alyx, and Nathan to themselves.

 

Nathan looked at them nervously. “I…I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry for being grumpy. Just…flustered, is all.”

 

The two shrugged in a lack of care.

 

“Do you forgive me?”

 

They nodded yes.

 

“Okay, good! I promise I’ll be done soon!” Nathan ducked back into the room, slamming the door shut.

 

“…There’s something wrong with that one.” Alyx muttered.

 

“We used to have a running joke at Black mesa that Aperture used to skip the mental stability part of employee screening…” Gordon gave an amused look, then began making his way to the main lobby.

 

“I see.” Alyx smirked and followed Gordon out of the technology wing.

 

A half an hour on the dot, and Nathan appeared ready, wearing multi-colored winter apparel and carrying a heavy bag full of gadgets. Alyx sighed and handed him a pistol and hip holster.

 

Vagabond set the communication panel up in the main lounge as everyone began setting things up around her, and the vocal wave image flickered up.

_It took all of you long enough…I will take a stab in the dark and guess that the moron stalled all of you._

 

Vagabond shook her head yes.

_As I thought._

 

GLaDOS sighed.

 

_Alright all of you listen up and observe the map I have plotted out for you._

 

A green screen map focused in on the hospital, then panned out to display a section of the map several miles away, in a clearing. A single structure stood out in the center of the clearing, with more buildings surrounding it.

 

_The enemy has established a stronghold within the perimeter of their hideout. I had the marshmallows investigate the area last night, and they were murdered off quite swiftly by sniper units. They have been attempting to place up barrier walls within the last hour, but you may be able to take them out with an EMP grenade or they may not have them all up by the time you arrive, if you leave quickly._

_By the way, Dr. Freeman, they’re setting up a welcoming committee just for you; a welcoming committee of turrets and sniper units. They must really love it when you visit them._

GLaDOS softly chuckled, then continued.

 

_I will send some distraction units if I can; I am currently tracking a secondary unit of Combine and preparing to rendezvous with them so that you can focus on the tower. I will leave you with an automated navigation system which will lead you directly to the tower. I hope you have salvaged some form of transport vehicle._

 

“I did.” Gordon replied.

 

_Perfect. Now get going. Good luck... you’ll need it._

 

The group quickly complied, collecting up their gear and heading to the vehicle conveniently parallel parked outside the door.

 

The white camouflaged Jeep Sport with its snow tires and covered top, looked to be a perfect winter ride, if perhaps a tad drafty. Luckily, drafty was not an issue for anyone.

 

"Everybody got enough ammo?" Alyx queried.

 

"I need grenades." Gordon replied. Alyx handed him three, which he secured in his bandoleer before going through his sidebag to count the number of shotgun shells he was carrying.

 

"How many rounds should I have for a pistol?" Nathan asked.

 

"A full clip in the chamber, and at least one or two clips for backup in case things get bad." Alyx replied.

 

"I would suggest running light and scavenging, since you're trying to avoid guys, but that's me. I would just sneak up and use that wrench you have." Gordon smirked.

 

"Of course you'd suggest that." Alyx elbowed him jovially.

 

"Hey, I did quite well with my crowbar until the military showed up."

 

“Get in the jeep, Gordon.”

 

Gordon smirked and climbed into the driver’s seat.

 

“Okay kids, in the back if you’re all set.” Gordon announced.

 

“Shotgun!” Alyx cried out from the back, hopping in the passenger seat.

 

Gordon turned the engine just as Vagabond and Nathan hopped in the back and buckled up. Vagabond handed Alyx the communication pad, which now displayed a map and a guiding arrow.

 

“Alright, I’ll guide you, Gordon.” Alyx gave a soft smile in his direction.

 

“Where to, first?” Gordon replied, adjusting the rear view mirror and seat.

 

The ride seemed much shorter than it should have been; GLaDOS provided Gordon with the quickest route over the highways and backroads. The tower in question was easy to spot across the skyline even before they reached the cemetery surrounding it.

 

“Not ominous at all…” Alyx muttered.

 

Gordon parallel parked against the curb and the quartet piled out of the jeep, Alyx fiddling with a dial on her helmet.

 

“This’s got a nifty zooming feature; I’m liking this.” She smiled and continued scanning the tower. “Okay guys, I’ve got a plan. Don’t follow me, okay?”

 

“Where are you going?” Gordon queried.

 

“There’s a nice nest for sniping nearby. There’s a guard up there; I’m gonna shoot him out, then tell you if anybody else pops up. You make your way towards the outside.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?” Gordon replied.

 

“Gordon…” She grimaced. “Just go with them, okay?”

 

He sighed and walked over to Vagabond and Nathan, getting a plan to invade the tower together as Alyx made her way to her nest.

 

The patchwork tower stood tall; it was some sort of dormitory slowly being panelled with the sleeker-looking black panels and guarding fixtures. There were some shields up, but one seemed to be on the fritz.

 

A guard stood alone in an unmodified window fixture, scouting around for people like herself and her crew. He was toast once she finished mounting this gun she had confiscated.

  
  
  



	8. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No plan ever goes as planned...

_One clean shot_ , Alyx reminded herself as she steadied the sniper rifle on the grass, aiming for the guard’s head. _One clean shot before he notices them._

 

She lined up the shot and fired; not where she wanted, but it went from one side of the guard’s head to the other, and he wasn’t going to be getting up from it.

 

She smiled and looked around, scoping out a new target.

 

The shot startled Vagabond, who jumped and looked back.

 

“It’s just Alyx, don’t worry.” assured Gordon.

 

The whirring of the tracker bot’s wheels began irritating Gordon. “That thing’s gonna give us away, Nathan.”

 

“Oh don’t you be such a pessimist! It’s perfectly fine.”

 

A shot rang out, piercing the tracker bot and causing it to explode in a brilliant shower of lights.

 

“Run!” Nathan cried out, grabbing the broken bot and charging forwards. Gordon dove behind a rock, and Vagabond ran towards the tower, having spotted a break in the barrier. She signaled to Gordon for him to follow, but he gave a signal for her not to pursue her entry. She sighed and still slid in.

 

Gordon growled slightly; these two were going to get themselves killed. Wasting time mulling the pros and cons, he followed Vagabond in.

 

Alyx peered up from scanning her next target at the sound of the commotion. It wasn’t a good sign. She focused in and spotted Nathan running towards a CP unit; she quickly picked the unit off in hopes that it would be a signal for Nathan to follow Gordon and Vagabond inside. He didn’t quite get the memo, as the shot caused him to dive into a ditch.

 

“Augh...” Alyx bit her lip and scanned around for another target, unaware of the nearby footsteps. A thunking sound in the snow finally alerted her to danger; a primed grenade landing nearby began to beep, and she flew up from her perch. She began to run, only managing to get out of the kill range before the device went off, rocketing her forwards and dropping her on the rounded end of a tombstone, knocking her unconscious.

 

Vagabond pulled her axe out of its holster and leaned up against a wall. She reminded herself that, like all tests, there were guns all around and only one good solution. It wasn’t a super-colliding button, but it was a solution.

 

She closed her eyes and listened deeply; footsteps were coming to the door nearby; one good swing could dismember or stun a man, and such an act would likely cause confusion in any other team members.

 

The door flung open, and Vagabond struck, smashing the axe through the back of the Combine’s helmet and flinging blood about, staining the snowy grass and the axe itself. A flatlining tone pierced the air as she yanked her axe out, the body of the now lifeless Combine unit slumping in a heap.

 

Useless weapon, huh? Alyx was completely wrong.

 

An explosion went off in the grave site, alerting Vagabond that now was a great time to duck inside.

 

Charging inside, she narrowly avoided getting spotted by a pair of guards by running down a side hall. A pair of shots made her jump again, diving into a room with an open door. The three occupants leapt from their chairs in surprise; all the unhelmeted CP units seemed confused as to Vagabond’s appearance, and Vagabond was genuinely shocked that They appeared to be doing a rather normal thing like drinking coffee.

 

After the shock wore off between the two parties, Vagabond charged, driving the axe into the nearest guard’s neck and severing his carotid artery, then sidekicked the second closest guard into the table, causing him to stumble and trip and drop to the floor. Removing the axe, she went for the last guard, only to get a gut full of electroshock baton in response.

 

Wincing and grabbing at the point of contact, she stumbled back just as the third guard swung the baton at her. She recovered fast enough to hold the axe up to parry, then push away the baton, deciding to ram the top of the axe into the guard’s nose, breaking it. She then pulled the axe up to split the guard’s head open, but was stopped promptly with a shock to the upper spinal cord, making her scream and drop the axe as she dropped to the ground.

 

The second guard shocked her again from behind, and the third guard kicked her in the stomach, causing her to curl up. Not feeling satisfied, the third guard tazed the downed Vagabond a few times, causing her to yelp in pain.

 

“Let them know upstairs that we got one.” The third guard commented, poking at Vagabond again.

 

At the back entrance door, Gordon drew two pistols out and fired a pair of shots into two guards charging out the door, dropping them. He stepped over them and into the building, looking around for Vagabond. There was no sign of her anywhere; he had to go by process of elimination. He took the right corridor, hoping to make some progress.

  
  
  


Despite an alarm light blinking, the hallways seemed too quiet to Gordon.  He cautiously leaned up against the wall, both pistols at the ready as he slid slowly, making the least amount of noise that he could manage.

 

Approaching the wall’s end, he leaned slightly, inspecting the hall he could immediately see; no guards on the floor above’s walkway, at the very least. As he leaned back, he heard radio shouts, followed by bullets whizzing past his skull as their submachine guns rattled away.

 

He ducked behind the wall, preparing himself for the two he could hear approaching; as soon as they turned the corner, he pumped several rounds a piece, point blank, into them, dropping them both.

 

Another Combine from the previously unoccupied walkway opened fire, grazing Gordon’s left shoulder. He hissed and ducked further back into the walkway and holstered the pistols, pulling the assault rifle slung around his shoulders into a firing position before jumping back out.

 

He gave a spray of suppression fire, then took aim while the Combine had ducked, deftly taking out the soldier.

 

A few shots from a pulse rifle rang out from behind, piercing the HEV’s energy shield and partially embedding themselves into the back of the suit itself, causing Gordon to wince and duck back behind the wall. The rounds were easily removable, but stung terribly and drew blood to the surface of his skin.

 

The suit began rattling off about his life signs dropping. “No shit,” he muttered back to it before jumping out and spraying the hallway with the rest of the assault rifle’s clip. He ducked back and ejected the empty clip, swiftly replacing it.

 

The nearby door burst open, and a pair of shotgun wielding soldiers plowed through, giving Gordon enough time to shoot up the left soldier before the right soldier unloaded a round of buckshot into his torso, kicking him off his feet and dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

 

The suit chirped again, and a haze enveloped him as it loaded him with a vial of morphine. The soldier stood over him, placing the still-warm muzzle against his forehead.

 

“Don’t shoot!” A voice –unfiltered, Gordon could tell– spoke up as a pair of boots marched over. “Well, well, Dr. Freeman. You keep on popping up everywhere, don’t you…”

 

It was a CP unit, helmetless, but unrecognizable.

 

“Get him up and in a cell. I wanna chat with him. Get the other ones downstairs, while you’re at it…”

 

A pair of soldiers who were accompanying the CP grabbed Gordon by the arms, lifting him up to his feet. The shotgun soldier then proceeded to ram the butt of the gun into his gut, then drop it atop his head, knocking Gordon out cold.

 

Out in the snow, a quivering figure shook in a ditch, clutching a thoroughly murdered bot.

 

“Nathan William Spurling, you are the most useless human I have ever known; when I need you the most, you’re all burnt out from overworking on that stupid code…”

 

Muttering to himself, knowing Nate could not hear him, Wheatley sighed as a greenish light flickered in front of him, taking a humanoid shape before fully forming. The burly, brown haired man wore his trademark green scaled scarf in a more insulating matter than he typically did.

 

“Hey Fritz, calm down. Screaming at yourself ain’t gonna help.”

 

Fritz.  What an annoying nickname. It made the personality core fume; he was highly faulty from corruption damage and visibly bearing the blackened lines of burnt-out circuitry across every inch of skin on his body, but certainly he didn’t need to be regarded as if he were a malwired toaster.

 

“What do you want, Rick?”

 

“Ya need some help survivin’ out here, pal? I think we should look for that smart aleck there; Gordon. Yeah, he knows these Combine guys like the back of his hand. I think he ran after Chell.”

 

“We’ll get lost in that building!”

 

“Did you say lost?”

 

A yellow light flickered and formed up to a younger blond male, wearing a wool skiier’s hat decorated in constellations.

 

“You know you can ask me for help, Wheatley! I’m your navigation expert!”

 

Wheatley grumbled.  “Fine, fine. We’ll go inside…”

 

“Let me lead!”

 

“Do what you want, Girard.”

 

Wheatley calmed down, letting the sub-routined Space Core shift all motor functions to his control.

 

Getting up, the plucky yellow core gently setting the bot down. A sudden radio squawk greeted him before an electric shock baton rammed into Nathan’s back, dropping him to the ground.

 

“Ahh!” He turned over, then began kicking at the CP, continuing to still get shocked by him. The charges kept triggering adverse effects with cognition, making it harder to function.

 

“Stop! Stop!” He curled up in a ball, hoping the CP would get the point that he surrendered. However, the CP continued, shocking him until he started twitching and losing sense of what was going on.

 

Defaulting to a panicked and injured state, Girard could think of only one thing to do: going limp, and reciting a mantra to distract himself from the pain.

 

“Selene, Phobos, Deimos, Dactyl, Io, Europa…”

 

The CP stopped, and, realizing that the rebel had buckled, holstered his shock baton and dragged him inside.

 

Waking up in a cell several hours later and clothed in some sort of blue jumpsuit attire, Vagabond felt miserable. Her ribs ached, there was blood in her mouth, and she was handcuffed and facing down, her head tilted to the side, her arms snugly secured around her backside. For a moment, she thought she was back in Aperture, but she was certain that she wouldn’t be greeted with handcuffs. Only tests...and maybe a slice of cake. No, scratch the cake. Where was she, and what was up with the wrist binding...?

 

A door from behind her opened.

 

“Are you awake yet?”

 

The voice was cold and metallic sounding, yet surprisingly human in diction. The boot steps approached her side, yet she did not acknowledge their presence. She had a strict ‘no communicating with authoritative machines hell-bent on killing you’ policy.

 

“I can see that you’re awake, you rebel scum. Now get up.”

 

The position she was in did not make her ribs feel any good at all, but she was not going to comply.

 

“Get up!” A sharp kick to the side rolled her flat on her back, letting her handcuffed wrists slide away freely. She winced, but did not speak.

 

“You’re gonna make me get you up, aren’t you? Fine.”

 

The CP grabbed her by the hair and brutally yanked her up to her feet, then dragged her over to the wall.

 

“Now, are you gonna tell me where the rest of your friends are hiding?”

 

She glared at him intensely, every ounce of hate she possessed rocketing at him through her narrowed lids.

 

“Do you think they will save you?”

 

She just continued to glare.

 

“Nobody’s gonna save you. Nobody’s gonna find you in here, understand?”

 

Nothing but glares responded to him. He reached and began to draw out his shock baton, but she would have none of it. She lunged forward and tackled the CP to the ground, knocking the shock baton from his grasp and sending it rolling across the floor.

 

Even though it was difficult to maneuver with her hands behind her back, Vagabond  jumped up and dove for the shock baton, being careful as to identify the shocking end as she rolled over and blindly grabbed it. The CP got up and ran for her, and was rewarded with a kick to the groin followed by a kick to the chest. making the CP stumble and giving Vagabond enough time to use the shock baton to aid in getting back up.

 

Giving another good kick to the chest, the CP fell to the ground, allowing Vagabond the precious time to turn around and drop on the CP, letting the shock baton do its work.

 

The crispy crackling of the shock baton and the shaking of the guard’s body told her she had landed on target, and she sat until a flatlining sound filled the air, the CP stopped moving, and she smelled a faint hint of something burning.

 

She rolled away and tossed the shock baton away, focusing on getting out of the current predicament she was in. She decided that first things were first, and she needed her hands out in front of her.

 

After much struggling and maneuvering, she managed to get her hands under her torso and out from behind her legs. Taking a brief breather, she slowly got up and checked the CP’s body for useful items.

 

The CP was also carrying a pistol and a keyring, both of which she took. She pocketed the keyring and decided to take the pistol; she wasn’t in physically good shape to actually fight another person. She looked around and spotted a ventilation shaft at the base of the floor nearby, she’d have a bit of a squeeze, but it was better to go incognito than to attempt to run out into the hallway.

 

She kneeled down and inspected the grate. Trying to open it without damaging the grate was a no-go. If only she had some sort of leveraging device, she could pry it open...

 

Luckily for her, she discovered that the screws weren’t properly tightened.

 

She fiddled with the screws, one by one, getting them out and tossing them into the far corner before gently removing the grate.

 

She went in feet first, scooting in slowly. She grabbed the pistol and pulled it in with her, then cautiously pulled the grate back in place before leaving. Scooting backwards through the grate was difficult, but manageable.

 

Her feet touched a wall, and she found that the vents stopped at a t-junction. She maneuvered herself cautiously and randomly picked a path to go down, head first.

 

After a longer crawl, she heard noises. Chattering noises, metallic noises.

 

Oh, she’d have her revenge tenfold!

 

She crawled closer to the voices to find a terrifying sight: Alyx, also dressed in a blue jumpsuit and baring a bloody lip, handcuffed to a chair with a CP yelling at her.

 

“Tell me where the rebel base is!”

 

“I don’t know where it is! Fuck, I hardly know those people I was with!”

 

“How did you escape the White Forest?”

 

“Fuck if I know!”

 

“So you just magically floated out?”

 

“Pretty much!”

 

Her response was met with a shock baton’s less friendly end, causing Vagabond to fume.

 

She could not bear to watch her new friend suffer, but from her position, she couldn’t do much about it without alerting her position. She shimmied towards the grate and gestured wildly to Alyx, who saw her. She began to sign, hoping Alyx would understand her.

 

[Do not say anything! I am going to try and trip him with this chain on my wrists!]

 

Alyx didn’t say anything, but gave a confused look. She didn’t understand signing.  Wonderful.

 

She shook her head and cautiously slid her hands and wrists through the grate, actively trying to gesture, with arm wiggles, the act of tripping the guard.

 

Alyx’s eyes lit up, and she gave a devilish grin. “Okay, okay, fuck this...what do you want first...?”

 

The CP shifted his stance, trying to look more broad-shouldered and tall. “Why don’t we start at the beginning...?” She could see his shit-eating grin through the opaque helmet.

 

“We...we were running out of gas for our buggy in...” She seemed to stop mid-sentence as she stared away at the ceiling corner above the vent in bewilderment. “...the fuck...?”

 

“Huh?” The CP turned around and followed her gaze, completely dropping his guard.

 

_Sucker. Only one clean shot before he notices._

 

Alyx clenched her teeth and pushed up and forwards as hard as she could with her feet firmly planted on the ground. She launched up and headbutted the CP, connecting nearly halfway up his shoulderblade. The blow jolted the CP forward in a stumbling fashion towards the vent, a foot sliding near-perfectly into Vagabond’s unnoticed and wide open gap between her handcuffed wrists and the vent grate.

 

She pulled back as quickly as she could, locking his lower leg against the grate. With a yelp, the CP dropped to the floor, letting go of his shock baton.

 

“What the hell?!” His cry of confusion amused both women, and Alyx steadied herself, then turned the chair on one leg and fell forwards and on her side.

 

“Hurry! The screws are rusty! Give it a few good shoves!”

 

The CP began kicking at the grate as Vagabond pulled back and slammed her weight against it as a counterweight, making sure to not let the man go. The frame shook and creaked against the rusted screws.

 

“Again!” Alyx cried, rolling over onto her front, pinning his head between her knees in an effort to distract him further.

 

Vagabond rammed again, popping one of the screws out while sending shooting pains up her shoulder. She certainly couldn’t try  that again. Carefully shifting weight, she leaned against her other shoulder and slammed a third time, popping another screw.

 

The riled CP’s legs flailed about, the strength pulling Vagabond against the grates with enough pressure to cause the weary frame to buckle and bend, giving her just enough room to climb into the room.

 

Vagabond squealed in joy and let his leg go, quickly yanking her arms free of the grate. She scrambled to a crouched position and pulled the pistol from her pocket, taking a close aim before firing a pair of rounds into his neck. The sound of the flatline was a welcome relief, allowing both ladies to exhale deeply.

 

“Oh man, I owe you a drink.” Alyx commented. “Can you help me search for some keys?”

 

“Oh! I have keys!” She set the pistol down and pulled the keyring from her other pocket.

 

“Nice! Does it have a handcuff key on it?”

 

“...I don’t know...”

 

Alyx turned her head. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

 

“...I don’t know which key is for these things.”

 

“C’mere. Lemme see the keys. I can tell ya.”

 

Vagabond, staying crouched, slowly walked over and held the keys out in front of Alyx.

 

“Can you hold out the keys one by one for me?”

 

Vagabond slid the first key away from the bunch; that looked more like a small key for a locker.

 

“No, next one.”

 

The two went through nearly two dozen of the keys until she held up a small key with a single notch.

 

“That one!” Alyx’s eyes lit up. “Perfect! Unlock my handcuffs and I’ll help you out.”

 

“Okay!” Vagabond plastered a wide and joyous grin across her face while getting up and leaning over Alyx, examining the handcuffs. Deciding that obviously the big hole with the groove that matched the key’s was where the key went, Vagabond slipped the key in and turned it left.

 

The clicking sound was all Alyx needed to pull her wrist free and swiftly stand up, pushing the chair away from her.

 

Alyx smiled and hugged Vagabond tightly. “That was awesome! I’ll take it from here.” She took the keyring and got both sets of cuffs off their wrists, pocketing the handcuffs in separate back pockets.

 

Alyx bent down and picked up the shock baton, removing its power core and pocketing it. “Gordon’ll be happy to see this baby.” She then rifled through his belt loop, taking his revolver and pair of clips, handing a clip to Vagabond. “We need to get going. I’m guessing you offed your guard too. They’ll be all over us soon. We need to bolt.”

 

Alyx swiftly dove over to the door, pistol at the ready. “It’s clear. C’mon, we’re blowing this popsicle stand.”

 

Alyx slid the keys in Vagabond’s unoccupied pocket as the two left the room, carefully scouting every little corridor with pistols raised.

 

Three floors above the fleeing heroines, Gordon’s eyes fluttered open, still in a mild daze from the concussion. He found himself handcuffed to a chair, his wrists bound around the back of the chair with a pair of handcuffs, in a room which was clearly the Lead CP’s office.

 

The setting was less disheveling than the fact that he was feeling cold. His HEV Suit was designed to regulate and maintain and optimal external body temperature for optimum physical performance, in conditions ranging from a frigid arctic tundra to a boiling hot reactor core room.

 

Discreetly looking down, two things crossed his mind: ‘at least the suit’s not malfunctioning’, and ‘where did my suit go?’.

 

The wrinkled and stiff blue denim Citizen uniform that was popular in Combine-controlled cities had replaced his HEV suit. A sudden chill jolted up his spine, and he made an effort to keep a blank expression in case he was being watched.

 

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was just starting to regret letting you sleep the...rather swift knockout shot off.”

 

Oh, he was being watched. That CP Captain, with his perfectly coiffed brown hair and highly punchable face exposed to Gordon as if taunting him to try and punch it, stood cross-armed on the opposite side of the office desk.

 

“You feel like talking? You still look a little green around the gills. What does that suit of yours pump into you, anyways?” A beat passed between sentences. “Oh nevermind, my boys will find out once they figure out how to pry it open.”

 

Gordon had to feint; he had to be sarcastic to the point of distraction and irritability to drop this man’s guard. Alyx had taught him that. Make him be so angry, he couldn’t think straight anymore. He had been working on refining his natural talent to break down shakable people and leave others some level of annoyed with only his sharp tongue and wit. This was it, mano y mano.

 

“Well, Dr. Freeman, your silent stoicism certainly lives up to its reputation.” The CP Captain snickered as he walked around his desk and began circling Gordon.

 

“Well, maybe you’d be more willing to speak if you knew that the four of you are all incarcerated right now, and eventually one of you will break. Personally, I’ve got money on the other guy in your group, seeing as how he’s been rambling on and on for the last few hours to himself like a lunatic.”

 

He pulled his shock baton out of its holster and grinned. "However, making you break first, Dr. Freeman, would be worth every last penny.”

 

He tapped the end of the baton against the chair, the crackling sound of electricity giving giving Gordon only a few milliseconds to clench up before the jolt of energy shot through his shoulder. He clenched his teeth and grunted, flinching as best as he could with the handcuffs.

 

“How’d that feel? Be honest; I’m looking to maim you, not kill you. For the time being.” He smiled as Gordon looked up and glared. “Oh? Good. Well, now that we have that out of the way, I would like to inform you that’s the lowest I go on shocks. With your cooperation, you’ll never have to feel that again. Something tells me that we’re gonna go a lot higher than that before we’re done.”

 

The CP Chief rounded the chair, leaning in to come in at eye level with Gordon. “Alright, first question, very simple: Where is your leader?”

 

...He didn’t know? Curious. Gordon decided to answer as best as he could; the logical chain of succession, Gordon surmised, would likely fall to Kleiner or possibly even Mossman, and if not, possibly even Magusson, or maybe even Alyx herself. He had no idea who was actually alive now out of the bunch, even Alyx at this point. He’d have to improvise.

 

“Present.”

 

The Chief snorted.

 

“We know you’re just a figurehead, Freeman. The rabblerouser. Now where’s Dr. Vance?”

 

Wait, they didn’t even know about Eli? How disconnected from the world were these guys? Well, granted, he doubted that word might have spread about...that...even if the two of them had been rocketed ahead decades, as predicted in his worst case scenario theory.

 

“We lost contact with him ages ago.”

 

Granted, even if everyone was alive, at least drawing attention to himself would give them even longer to hide out and recover and debate who was in charge.

 

The CP Chief drove the shock baton into his shoulder, letting the charge dance through him for a noticeably longer duration than the first time. His arm muscles contracted roughly, his fist clenching tightly as he kept himself from kicking the Chief in the gut to make him go away.

 

“Are you gonna tell me the truth this time, Dr. Freeman?”

 

“I am!”

 

The Chief spun the baton and jammed the tip against his thigh, sidestepping to avoid the kick it caused as the bolt ran its course. A soft groan of agony escaped Gordon’s pursed lips.

 

“We know you were all up at the White Forest, Freeman!”

 

“We lost contact!”

 

The CP Chief grimaced and rammed the shocking tip into Gordon's stomach, sending waves of spastic nausea through every inch of his guts. Coughing and sputtering, Gordon began regretting his decision and looked around for the exit. He had to take this guy out and find the rest of the crew.

 

"Do you think I'd believe you lost contact with your base? Your branch out here's been intercepting our transmissions for the last two weeks since the White Forest incident. You gonna tell me you aren't sending those back to base?"

 

Gordon turned pale. It had only been two weeks. Two weeks, and a million miles away. It felt like forever. His silence, however, seemed to embolden the Chief. A wide grin spread across the man’s face as he stood up and began walking towards his desk.

 

“You didn’t think we were just going to sit here not noticing our signals getting siphoned off? You and that ladyfriend of yours are getting rusty.”

 

He chuckled softly as he pulled a handheld radio out of his desk drawer. “You see this?” He held it up and gave it a little wiggle. “This goes directly to the two guys of mine downstairs who are interrogating your little ladyfriend and that Lizzie Borden wannabe who tore up my mess hall.”

 

He approached closer, then leaned in and looked Gordon eye to eye. “If you don’t wanna give me a straight answer, I’ll just give them the word to send them down to our Stalker Processing Wing. We already have quite a few here, but an extra pair wouldn’t hurt.”

 

Gordon glared silently, maintaining his cool as the chief smirked before pulling away and turning towards his desk.

 

"I thought you'd get the point. I think I'll just give them a ring to see how they're-"

 

Gordon didn't let him finish his sentence; he leaned the chair's weight forwards and charged, bodychecking the chief into his desk. Before he did anything else, he then drove his knee into the chief's wrist, making him drop the radio. Kicking the radio across the room, Gordon kicked the back of the chief's left knee, dropping him low enough to knee his face into the desk, knocking him out cold.

 

He briefly contemplated finishing him off, but decided against it...for the time being. Main priority was the handcuff keys.

 

After searching for, acquiring, and finally using the keys to free himself, he took a deep relaxing breath and grabbed the radio. He then pocketed the handcuffs and keys, and stook the baton and the pistol.

 

First thing was first; to free the girls. As he began to leave, the chief stirred, making Gordon jump, pull out the pistol and fire a shot through the top of his head. Change of plans, the prime objective at the moment was to relocate his calm and collected brain, then to get downstairs to save the girls.

 

“Puck, Miranda, Ariel, Umbriel, Titania, Oberon...”

 

Wheatley continued to stumble about, eyes alight in a blood red hue and flickering as he struggled to recover and restore a calmer, less bloodthirsty state of thinking in...wherever the hell he was.

 

_“Co-co-corruption is at seven-ty-fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive-five-five-five...”_

 

Even without a single piece of circuitry binding that annoying voice to his files, it still remained to antagonize him. However, its presence distracted Wheatley from his own utter malfunctioning and snapped him back into reality. His eyes stopped blinking and settled back into their cerulean irised state. A steady feeling of something wrong settled within him, and the shaky core chalked it up to his surroundings; the creepy gasmask-faced individual who had electroshocked him into a catatonic state certainly left a chill in the air.

 

“Dysomnia...Selene, Phobos, Deimos, Dactyl-”

 

Wheatley spun around and glared daggers at Girard. “Shut up!”

 

Girard screamed and jumped as best as he could, given that he had been tied to the chair, succeeding in dropping the chair on its side.

 

“Huh?” The guard walked over and put the chair back up on all fours.

 

Wheatley circled behind the chair, a wide and wicked grin creeping across his face. He leaned in over Girard's shoulder, ignoring whatever it was that the guard was saying to Nathan. Girard sat perfectly still, staring at the guard as he collected his nerve.

 

"If you can continue being innocuous, I will find a way to get us out, alright?"

 

"Are you sure about that...?"

 

"I'm going to just...run some subroutines. Keep this body going as I always do. You just distract this guard and, when I finish figuring out the plan, I'll just assume control and take it from there. Got it?"

 

"...okay..."

 

Wheatley slipped back down to a subconscious level, letting Girard focus on the guard.

 

"Where is the base?"

 

"What base?"

 

The guard pulled his shock baton out and tazed him in the gut.

 

"Your base, rebel!"

 

"I live in a building..."

 

"We know that's just an outpost, now where is your headquarters?"

 

"I have had just about enough of this fool's nonsense. Shove over, Girard. I'll handle him."

 

Wheatley took control of Nathan's body and immediately lunged, using every ounce of weight and power to rocket himself into the guard. He landed atop the guard and pinned him to the ground, leaning the top of the chair's back into the guard's throat.

 

"Now shut up and stay put." Wheatley drove his knee into the guard's arm, preventing him from being able to move it and shock him.

 

Untying his hands from the loose knot it was secured in was simple; had they not considered that he would try to escape?

 

"You're a bunch of bloody morons if you thought I would be sitting around babbling until the end of time." Wheatley grinned and grinded both his knees into the guard's arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than to play with you."

 

He reached down and pulled the gun from the guard's holster and fired a shot into the guard's helmet, eliciting a flatline from his suit.

 

The sound was music to Wheatley's ears; the pain he had been feeling seemed to sublimate, leaving a wonderful rush of excitement.

 

He fired another round into the guard, getting nothing more from the corpse. He frowned, then grabbed the pistol's extra clip, as well as his keyring.

 

"I wonder if they all make that sound..." Wheatley pondered aloud as he exited the room.  He looked around for more guards, finding a pair and quickly firing upon them. Both of them dropped to the floor, their dual flatlinings pleasing Wheatley greatly as the sound bounced off the walls.

 

"It's a wonderful symphony...more! More!" Wheatley cackled and charged down the hall, grabbing their ammunition and rushing out to find more guards to kill.


End file.
